


Rose Records

by ThePause



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Accidental Strip Tease, And so many feelings BIG FAT FEELINGS, And some other...stuff, Kissing, Like blow jobs, M/M, Making Out, Nashville AU, So much kissing, and anal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-01-04 20:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21203768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePause/pseuds/ThePause
Summary: Nashville AU. After their video company went defunct, the Rose family started a record label in Nashville, TN where David is Creative Director and Patrick is their latest signing.





	1. Chapter 1

The last thing David wanted to do on a Tuesday night was go see some unknown singer songwriter his dad was considering signing to the label. When his dad had asked him to go, David had protested. Maybe he had plans! Maybe he was busy! With things! But Johnny Rose knew he’d say yes because David’s entire life was Rose Records. David, it seemed, needed to get a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or a life. But who had time for romance when there were photo shoots to plan and album covers to design? David liked his life. Mostly. Sure, he was lonely sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. But his days and nights were filled with work and industry functions and the occasional random hook-up. That was enough, had to be enough. Besides, it wasn’t like love was just hanging out on the corner of 2nd and Broadway, waiting for David Rose to show up.

Who even had a show on a Tuesday night, anyway? Tuesday nights were for laundry and Netflix. Take-out and a good book. No one went out on a Tuesday. But there David was, walking up 4th Avenue to The Ryman Auditorium, dodging tourists in freshly purchased cowboy hats hoping to run into Keith Urban at Tootsie’s.

“He’s not going to be there,” David said under his breath as he passed a group of half-drunk women all wearing shirts that said _NASHVEGAS OR BUST_.

Half-drunk celebrity hunters aside, David could admit he loved Nashville. He loved the small-town feel, the down-home goodness. His father had started Rose Records in Nashville a few years before after his video empire went belly up. Turned out, Johnny and his wife Moira had a knack for discovering talent. Their first signing was Stevie Budd, a frowny, mortician looking 20-something who was utterly terrible in interviews but came alive on stage. Her first single, a heartfelt power ballad about finding yourself in spite of yourself, quickly went #1 and Rose Records became the label to watch. With David’s eye for fashion and art direction and Alexis’s PR prowess, the family had never looked back. Nashville was home now.

David skipped up the brick steps to front doors of The Ryman and caught the eye of Miss Edna, taking tickets at the door.

“Good evening, Miss Edna,” David said with a little bow of his head.

“My, my, my aren’t you looking like a prized show pony tonight,” she said, admiring David’s skirted black pants, black combat boots and black cashmere sweater with white stars stitched around the collar. 

“Thank you.”

“You here for the show, Honey?”

“Just here on official business.”

Miss Edna waved him through security and the front glass doors. David scanned the small lobby, crowded with lines of people waiting for the bathroom or for their drink orders from the snack bar. The lights overhead blinked, signaling the show was starting soon. He didn’t see anyone from his family and pulled out his phone.

David: Where are you? I’m alone in this tiny lobby full of middle-aged women in mom jeans ordering plastic cups of wine and cackling to one another. A woman who hot-rolled her hair and definitely didn’t brush is out is leering at me. Leering!

Alexis: We’re in the back dressing room on the second floor. Come up! Mom says bring the wine.

David ignored the wine-request and climbed the narrow, carpeted staircase to the second floor. The Ryman was a Nashville institution, full of history and the ghosts of country music’s past, but David couldn’t understand why they’d never remodeled at least the staircase. Why were the stairs built to accommodate only half a human foot? Did people from the early 1900s have shorter feet? And the red and gold carpet and gold accented banisters and light fixtures, did no one have an eye for design? He reached the balcony and made his way over to the door leading to the backstage area.

“Hi, Earl,” he said with a wave. Earl was Miss Edna’s husband of fifty years. The couple had worked at The Ryman for the last twenty and had seen basically every artist you could think of perform on the historic stage.

“Evening, David. Nice night for a concert, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t, actually.”

“Always a jokester, aren’t you? Know where you’re going?” Earl asked, opening the door.

“Enough to get me in trouble. Thanks, Earl.”

David slipped through the door and wound his way through the narrow hallways covered in black and white photographs of musical giants and their legendary performances – Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris and Roy Acuff and whoever else. It had never impressed him much. David didn’t understand country music and had no interest in trying to figure it out. His personal investment in Rose Records, which leaned more Americana/folk/pop than country, was more about the aesthetic and less about the music. It’s why he hated being dragged out to these scouting shows. He didn’t care what the artists sounded like, didn’t care about their songs or their radio appeal. His job was to make sure they looked great on a billboard. 

David heard Alexis before he found the right dressing room. She had on her flirty voice, which told him more than he needed to know about the artist they were scouting. His dad hadn’t told him much, just said it was a singer songwriter with a lot of heart. David hoped that meant someone easy to dress and attractive enough to photograph. He rounded the corner and entered the dressing room with a huff, eager to let everyone know just what an imposition this entire evening was to him.

“David, there you are,” Moira said with a bored tone. She was sitting on a tacky orange couch dressed in a gauzy black floor-length dress and an elaborately braided, long black wig, like a goth Mother of Dragons.

“Sorry I’m late,” David said, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “I was nearly accosted by a gaggle of women in ill-themed t-shirts whose breath smelled like happy hour at that bar across from Bridgestone Arena. You know, the one with all the levels and the cocktails that glow in the dark? With the terrible honky tonk music blaring at all hours?”

A man with kind eyes and short (too short, if you asked David) brown hair stuck his hand out. “You must be David Rose. I’m Patrick.”

David shook his hand and re-crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Patrick. If this was the guy, he was going to have his work cut out for him.

Alexis draped her arm over Patrick’s shoulder and cooed in his ear. “Patrick’s been telling us all about his music, haven’t you, Patrick?”

“Yes, yes,” Johnny said, clapping his hands together, “we’re thrilled to be able to…to be able to see your show tonight, Patrick. I’m sure it will be just…just something.”

Moira leaned forward, her hand on her chin. “David, did you bring the wine?”

“No,” he said with an eye roll, “I didn’t bring the wine.”

“So, David,” Patrick said, subtly wiggling away from Alexis, “Johnny tells me you’re the creative director? He says you’re the best in the business when it comes to album packaging and cover design.”

David preened the tiniest bit and shook his head. “I mean, I do what I can.”

Johnny motioned to David with a sweep of his hand. “Oh, yes, David here has a natural talent for visual art. He art directs all of our photo shoots and is our in-house guy for album design and video direction and production. He’s very talented.”

Patrick grinned. “Sounds like you have your hands full.”

“I manage,” David said.

He wasn’t sure what to make of the way Patrick was looking at him. It was like Patrick knew an amusing secret about David or like they’d all been talking about him before he got there. It unnerved him. Who was this guy, anyway? He looked like he worked retail at a mall department store and used his employee discount on two-for-one button-downs. He didn’t look anything at all like an artist. Good thing David loved a challenge.

Johnny looked at his watch. “Okay, gang, looks like it’s about showtime. We should let Patrick get ready.”

“Wonderful to meet all of you,” Patrick said with a warm smile. “I hope you enjoy the show.”

David shoved off the doorframe and spun around into the hallway, Alexis hot on his heels.

“David.” He didn’t acknowledge her. “David. David! Isn’t Patrick, like, so cute? With his little button-face and his little brown belt and his little brown shoes with the laces?”

“Hmm,” David said.

“So cute. I just wanna smush his cheeks together.” She reached up to smush David’s cheeks and he batted her hands away.

“You know Dad says you can’t date the artists.”

“Says the guy who dated Stevie, like, as soon as we signed her,” she giggled.

“I didn’t _date _Stevie. We just…kept each other company when we were both new to town.”

“Sexy company,” Alexis said, shaking her hips and sticking her tongue out to touch her top lip. “Anyway, I’m not dating him, I’m just saying,” she drew her hands up into pointed fins in front of her chest, “he’s a doll, right?”

“He’s something,” David said.

The Rose family made their way to the sound booth in the balcony, prime positioning for the best sound in the venue. Patrick was opening up for another artist, a singer songwriter duo from West Virginia that had a decent size fanbase. The auditorium was mostly full, fans crammed into the ancient pews, eagerly awaiting the show to start, a noisy buzz filling the room. When Patrick strolled out on stage, looking nothing at all like an artist, the noise didn’t quiet down. He adjusted the microphone stand and plugged in his acoustic guitar, all while the crowd continued to chatter, people finding their seats, the house lights still up.

“This is already a disaster,” David said, motioning to the stage, his dark eyebrows at full attention. “No one even introduced him. We should go. This is clearly a waste of time.”

“Now, son,” Johnny said, a friendly slap on David’s shoulder, “let’s give the man a chance, shall we?”

Alexis was busy texting on her phone. Moira had somehow commandeered a glass of wine from the dressing room to the sound booth, God knows how, and was leaning against the back wall, eyes closed, a half-smile on her face. Johnny was next to David, smiling, eager. David was irritated. He’d had a long day. He didn’t want to sit through three-to-four songs from some wannabe nobody. He wanted to go home. It was clear this Patrick guy didn’t have it, whatever it was.

Patrick, seemingly unaware of the crowd’s disinterest, strummed his guitar and smiled. “Hey, everybody. I’m Patrick Brewer and I’m pretty excited to be here tonight.” No one listened. Barely anyone looked his way. “This song’s called ‘Falling Over and Into’ and…I hope you like it.”

David couldn’t help the loud sigh that escaped his lips. Patrick was probably one of those earnest types who cried when he sang about his girlfriend and thought love conquered all or some other equally nonsensical stereotype. David knew life didn’t work like that. Problems weren’t solved through pithy, framed sayings hung over discount furniture. No one could Live/Laugh/Love their way out of heartache and heartbreak. Life was messy and hard and oftentimes fucking brutal. He hated people who couldn’t admit that. He was concocting an elaborate excuse to leave, probably a fake migraine, when Patrick started to sing.

And, oh, when Patrick started to sing.

Alexis smacked David in the arm. “Oh, my God, David.”

She was wide-eyed, staring at Patrick, her mouth hanging open. Moira came over to stand next to Alexis, looking down at Patrick with a smug expression that said, _we’re going to make so much money_. Johnny was giddy, bouncing on his toes. The entire auditorium went quiet, the crowd rapt, hanging on Patrick’s every word.

David didn’t know what to think. Patrick was, at least according to his appearance, the most vanilla, boring, unremarkable man he’d ever met. Nice, sure, but most artists, even brand-new ones, had a swagger, a presence. Patrick was just…regular. Some guy. How the hell was that voice coming out of someone wearing mid-range, straight leg denim?

Johnny nudged David with his elbow. “What’d I tell you, son? Isn’t he great?”

David shrugged, unwilling to play along. “Let’s just hope he’s as good in front of the camera.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The crowd’s enthusiastic reaction to Patrick’s Ryman performance, plus the fact that he sold out of all of his CDs and merch after the show, had all but sealed the deal for the Roses. They had to have him on their roster. By Friday morning, Johnny was walking him around the label, introducing him to label staff and posing for a signing photo for Alexis to send out to the media. It was all happening very quickly, David noticed. Everyone was excited about Patrick Brewer.

David was in his office making a list of potential photographers and shoot locations for Patrick’s debut single when Stevie dropped by.

“What are you doing here,” David said, barely looking up from his list.

“I had to come in and do some liners for the radio team since, you know, they’re always working to better my career. Speaking of, what are you doing to better my career?”

David looked up at her with a wry smile. “Excuse me, I made you look like a fucking superstar. If it wasn’t for me, your album cover would be you looking like some pale, vampire girl in a faded flannel two sizes too big with invisible lips and not nearly enough eyeliner.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m understated. It works for me.”

David eyed the leather jacket she was wearing, the same leather jacket he’d let her keep from the photoshoot. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Lunch today?” she asked, taking all of the pencils out of David’s pencil cup and then tossing them back in one by one. He hated when she did that.

“Can’t. I have to go to lunch with the new artist Dad signed, Patrick Brewer.” David rolled his eyes and waved his hands in the air when he said it, like going to lunch with the new artist was an unnecessary speed bump in his busy day.

“Isn’t that the guy from the Ryman on Tuesday? I heard about him. Everyone’s talking about his performance.”

“Everyone? Really? Is there a Nashville text chain I’m not a part of?” David’s tone was dry and uninterested, but Stevie could see right through him. Patrick made him nervous.

“I heard he’s cute, too.”

“Is that what this alleged ‘everyone’ is saying?” David picked up a stray stack of papers on his desk and straightened them, tapping them loudly on the glass desktop. “Why should I care if he’s cute?”

Stevie plopped down on David’s butter leather couch and sighed, her denim-clad legs splayed out wide. “Because you need to get laid.”

David’s eyes went wide and he threw his head back, closing them tightly. “Even if that were true, which it most certainly is not, I don’t date artists.”

She grinned her evil grin, the one that had gotten David into trouble more than once. More than a few times. “I’m an artist.”

“Yes. Well. We all have our momentary lapses in moral judgement, do we not? Anyway, Patrick’s straight, or, I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”

“So, you_ have_ thought about it.”

“No, I have not thought about it.” He had totally thought about it. Patrick’s performance, his voice that sounded like melted chocolate feels, that cute little smile when they met and shook hands, his eyes that, swear to God, twinkled, like Patrick was half wood sprite or something. But none of that mattered because Patrick was an artist. And straight. Probably. “Now leave my office. I’m working.”

“Leave your office? Is that any way to talk to your number one client? Aren’t you supposed to cater to my every whim? Ask how high when I say jump?”

David crossed him arms and pulled his top lip into his mouth before saying, “Oh yes, please, ask me to jump.”

She laughed and got off the couch, making a big show of bending over in front of David to check the laces on her Chucks.

David raised his eyebrows. “Is that an invitation?”

“I don’t know,” Stevie said, looking up at him, still bent over, “what’s your RSVP?”

“Get! Out!” David pointed to the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “Out right now!”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Before she could leave David’s office, Johnny came in with Patrick who was all friendly twinkly smiley, still in a conservative blue button-down and jeans David wouldn’t be caught dead in. Did Patrick not own another outfit? Was this his whole _look_? And why was it working for him? It shouldn’t work on anyone, ever.

“Oh, Stevie, hi,” Johnny said, “I didn’t know, uhh…didn’t know you were here today. Let me introduce you to Patrick Brewer, the newest member of the Rose family.”

David noticed Patrick’s cheeks redden at Johnny’s introduction. He noticed Patrick glance at him, too. It was quick, but there was something in it, something he couldn’t quite place. That or Stevie was getting to him. Stevie was always getting to him.

“Patrick,” Johnny continued, “this is Stevie Budd, the first artist we ever signed to Rose Records.”

“Hi,” Patrick said, reaching out to shake Stevie’s hand. “Of course, it’s so nice to meet you. I love your stuff. Big fan.”

“I’ve heard great things about you,” Stevie said, turning to grin at David. “David was just telling me how you brought the house down at the Ryman.”

“I didn’t…” David paused, not finishing his sentence. He didn’t want to look like a total ass in front of Patrick, but didn’t want to look so eager, either. Damn it, Stevie.

“So, listen, Stevie,” Johnny said, “we’re all going to lunch down at Merchant’s. Why don’t you join us?”

“Oh, she can’t,” David said right as Stevie said, “I’d love to.” _Damn it, Stevie_.

“Wonderful, wonderful. It’ll be a…a family lunch. Alexis and Moira are coming as well.”

_Oh, good_, David thought dryly, _the more the merrier_.

#

Alexis had called ahead to Merchant’s and gotten them a table in the dining room upstairs. Normally the family ate in a booth in the first-floor bar, but today was a special occasion, toasting the new addition to the label.

Alexis stopped David on the stairs leading up to their table while everyone else walked on ahead. “So, David, I was wondering, like, are you getting a vibe from Patrick?” She wiggle winked at him, her eye sort of twitching like it was trying to wink but couldn’t quite close the deal.

Lunch hadn’t even started yet and already David was exhausted. “What do you mean? What vibe?”

“I’m just saying. He hasn’t even asked for my number, so, he’s probably playing for your team. He’s not married. I asked.”

“What team?” David threw his hands into the air. “There’s no team. You know how I feel about organized sports.”

Why was everyone suddenly trying to set him up? And with an artist for God’s sake. He didn’t date artists. And even if Patrick wasn’t straight, which he probably was, David was sure Patrick would never be into someone like him. Patrick was too sunshine-y, too nice, too acoustic guitar. He’d never go for David’s sharp edges, his moodiness, his need for precision that bordered on pathological. Not that David had thought about it. Because he definitely hadn’t. Not at all.

Everyone was seated at the table when David and Alexis made it up the stairs. Stevie had arranged it so David was sitting between her and Patrick. David gave her a look, which she totally understood. It only made her smile wider. Since their poorly timed romantic almost which never made it to anything other than a short string of nights together, David and Stevie had become close friends. Close enough that Stevie knew all of David’s buttons and enjoyed pushing them as often as possible. David knew she’d only agreed to come to lunch so she could tease him about Patrick, which didn’t make sense. Anyone with half a grip on reality could see that there would never be a Patrick-and-David situation. They would never have anything in common. They were polar opposites. And even though it was rumored for opposites to attract, David had never found that to be true. It didn’t make sense.

Patrick cleared his throat, a sappy smile on his face. “Thank you, Roses, and Stevie, for inviting me to lunch. This is so nice, really.” He made eye contact with everyone as he said it, lingering a beat too long on David.

“Don’t thank me,” Stevie said, “I’m just here freeloading. I learned a long time ago to never turn down free lunch.”

“We’re happy to have you, Stevie,” Moira said, wearing a white, starched blouse with a black and white checkered blazer and a silver necklace that looked like it weighed five pounds. “You do a wonderful job leveling out the insipid small talk with your delightful sarcastic barbs.”

Johnny jumped in. “Yes, Stevie, you know you’re always welcome anytime. And Patrick, we’re so glad to have you join us. We all…all eager to get to know you.”

“Yes, Patrick, we need to learn things about you. Like, are you in a relationship?” Alexis asked, batting her eyelashes in faux innocence. “I mean, because I’m your publicist, I’ll need to know things like that. Personal things. About you.”

David wanted to kick her under the table, but she was sitting too far away. He settled for a pointed, wide-eyed look, which Alexis ignored.

Alexis’s question turned the tips of Patrick’s ears pink and he looked down at his lap. “No, no, no relationship at the moment.”

David noticed he didn’t say no girlfriend at the moment. 

“Good. For. You,” Moira said, patting Patrick’s knee. “When starting a career, it’s best to keep one’s mind clear, focused. Sexual gratification, while cleansing of the body,” she tapped a finger to her temple, “can muddy the creative focus of the mind.” 

“Ew,” David and Alexis said in unison.

“It’s never hurt my creativity,” Stevie said, raising her glass of water in salute.

“Okay,” David said in warning, “that’s enough from you.”

Patrick laughed shyly, looking between David and Stevie. “You two seem close.” 

“Oh, these two,” Moira said, pointing and smiling, “they’ve taken a trip down copulation highway together, if you can believe it.”

“What a delightful image, Mother, thank you,” David said with a strained smile.

“Oh,” Patrick said, a strange look on his face, “you two? Dated?”

“It was a while ago and nothing worth noting.”

“Hey,” Stevie said, smacking David on the arm.

“I’m just saying. It’s not like it was some,” David looked up at the ceiling, “love story for the ages or anything.”

He looked over and Patrick was watching him, thinking, like he had formed an opinion about David and was now changing it to something new. David didn’t know if that was good or bad, so he decided to change the subject.

“Anyway, Patrick, Dad says he’s wanting to rush out a single, which means we need to get a photo shoot planned. Have you given any thought to,” David pointedly looked at Patrick’s shirt and jeans, “what look you might be going for? An artist’s brand is so important to the overall aesthetic. That first photo sends a message to fans about what to expect from you, so it’s important we set you up well and have you looking your best.”

Patrick smiled that twinkly smile, the one David had definitely _not _been thinking about at all. “I don’t know, David, what do you think would look good on me?”

The way Patrick said it, the way he was looking at David, nearly made David blush at the table with his entire family and Stevie watching. Was he completely losing his mind? He hadn’t been with anyone in a while, sure, but it wasn’t like he was going to throw himself at the first person to smile at him. Worse, was he that hard up that he could be swept off his feet by someone so…nice? He’d never dated nice. Nice wasn’t in his wheelhouse.

Before David could answer, the server came to take drink orders, giving David a moment to collect himself. Once drink orders were taken, David tried again.

“I’ve been making a list of potential photographers,” he said, pulling his napkin into his lap. “After lunch, you could come by my office and take a look at their work, if you want.”

“Hopefully not Sebastian,” Stevie mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.

David’s head whipped around. “Do you think I have a death wish? Of course not Sebastian.”

“Who’s Sebastian?” Patrick asked.

Alexis put her pointer finger down on the table and shook her head. “Sebastian Raine is this amazing photographer from New York. He’s shot Mom a few times. He and David dated for a hot minute when we were in New York but it didn’t work out. Let’s just say there were a lot of mall pretzels involved after the break-up.”

“Okay,” David said, cutting her off, “this isn’t David’s dating history hour, thank you.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, dear,” Moira said. “Sebastian Raine has a sexual energy that’s hard to ignore.” 

“As I was saying,” David said, looking at Patrick, who was grinning at him, “we can look at some options, talk about a location. I know some great studios nearby.”

“Oh, thank you, David, but I was sort of hoping we could do it in Leiper’s Fork.”

“Leiper’s Fork?” David said a little too loudly, a dramatic look of disgust on his face. “Why the hell would we go all the way out to Leiper’s Fork? There’s nothing out there but,” he waved his hands in the air, “grass and farm animals.”

Patrick grinned. “I have some property out there, a house. It’s a really beautiful area." 

David stared at him. “You_ live_ there? Like, you live in Leiper’s Fork?”

Patrick nodded. “I do.”

The server came back with drinks and took their lunch orders. Alexis and Moira ordered salads with chicken, dressing on the side. Johnny got the brisket. Stevie, David and Patrick all ordered burgers.

“Why don’t you come out and see my place,” Patrick said, after the server left the table. “Can’t hurt to look, right? If it’s not right for your vision, we can do to the studio you mentioned.”

“That sounds like a good idea, right David?” Johnny said.

“I think it could be a really cute look,” Alexis said, “with like, some trees and some birds and nature things.”

“Well,” David said, shaking his head in a circle, not knowing where to look. Patrick’s gaze was so intentional. It made David squirm. No one had ever looked at him like that, like they had a plan. Patrick, no doubt, had a plan and David wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what it was. “I mean, I guess I could take a look.”

“Great,” Patrick said. “Why don’t you come out tomorrow around 5:00 and I can show you the property. I’ll cook dinner.”

Tomorrow night? Cook dinner? David glanced around the table and everyone was beaming at him with a stupid grin on their face. Under the table, Stevie was knocking her boot against his ankle. He wanted to shout at all of them that they had no business grinning. This was purely professional. If he went out to Patrick’s place, it was only to scout a location for the shoot, nothing more. Because Patrick was an artist. And David didn’t date artists. Even cute ones.


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick’s house wasn’t anything like David thought it would be. He’d never been to Leiper’s Fork (because why would he) but he knew it was super in the country. He’d pictured Patrick living in a rustic, outdoorsy, cabin something or other. Something with zero closet space since Patrick seemed to only own one shirt and one pair of jeans. But when he’d turned down the long, gravel drive (45 minutes late) (because he had to change his outfit three times) (but not because he was nervous because there was no reason to be nervous) that wound up a hill overlooking a small valley, he was met with a charming white farmhouse with dormer windows and dark green shutters and a wide, inviting front porch.

Patrick was sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, strumming an acoustic guitar when David pulled up. David got out and Patrick set his guitar aside, hopping down the porch steps to meet him. He wasn’t wearing his standard button down, but a navy Henley that accentuated his shoulders.

_So_, David thought, _two shirts then_.

“Hello, David. I’m glad you made it.”

David smiled a crooked, close-lipped smile and nodded, unsure what to say. He was wearing a black sweater that said SANGFROID in white block letters across the front and black jeans with the knees ripped out, an outfit he’d felt confident in when he left his condo. But now, with Patrick beaming up at him, David felt awkward, like a teenager who’d dressed up to see his crush. He needed to get a grip.

“I have to say, Patrick, you were right,” David said, swiveling his head around to take in the property, “it really is beautiful out here.”

“Thank you,” Patrick said, still peering up at him, still grinning.

God, that grin.

“So,” David said, crossing his arms over his chest, “let’s see this perfect shoot location.”

Patrick shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and cocked his head to the side, motioning for David to follow him. Together they walked around the house to the back, where the property opened up to the valley below. A breath escaped David’s lips as they rounded the corner. Rolling hills as far as the eye could see surrounding a wide meadow of wildflowers, an explosion of color in the center of the browns and greens of the trees all set against a bright blue sky. It was stunning.

“Wow,” he said, without a hint of sarcasm. He was truly wow’d.

Patrick smiled. “You like it?”

“Like it? I feel like Alice and the White Rabbit are going to peek out from behind a tree and ask us to tea.”

Patrick chuckled, and wiped a hand across his mouth. “Maybe you should come out here more often.”

Patrick’s words felt loaded with hidden meaning, like he was offering a private invitation to David to leave the city and make a life with him in Leiper’s Fork, which, was an impossibility, David knew. The look on Patrick’s face wasn’t helping.

“How did you even know this was out here?”

“The land has been in my family forever, but no one has ever lived on it. It was about a year or so ago that I,” Patrick paused, looking out over the meadow, “I needed some time to myself. So, I moved out here and built a house.”

David turned around to gesture at the house. “You built this?”

“With help,” Patrick said, smiling. He was always smiling. David had never seen someone smile so much. He couldn’t imagine what Patrick had to be so happy about all the time.

“And you live out here all by yourself in this adorable house with all this,” he gestured around the property, “scenery?” He looked Patrick quickly out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t you ever get lonely? It’s so…quiet.”

Patrick shrugged. “I was looking for some quiet when I came out here.”

“And now?”

Patrick shifted his weight, his hands still buried in the front pocket of his jeans. “Now I’m…open,” he looked right at David, “to new possibilities.”

Patrick’s words poured through David like ice cold water quenching the driest thirst. And okay fine, yes, he admitted it, God, he _admitted it_. He was wildly attracted to Patrick Brewer. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He was attracted to Patrick’s kind disposition, his quiet confidence, his strong shoulders and defined forearms, his ridiculous jeans, that damn grin. The way he said David’s name, like he knew him. Like he wanted to know him.

But none of that changed the fact that Patrick was an artist. And probably straight. Probably.

“So,” David said. He cleared his throat. Pursed his lips. Looked up at the sky. Anything at all to keep from looking at Patrick. David tended to display his emotions across his face like a blinking neon sign and if he looked at Patrick now, all would be revealed. He had to pull himself together, lock his attraction realization up tight, throw away the key.

They stood there, side by side, looking out across the hills instead of each other. But David could feel it, a current, like two magnets being drawn to each other. Every time he saw Patrick, the current got a little stronger.

“Hungry?” Patrick asked.

David nodded with closed eyes. “Always.”

He followed Patrick up to the house, a silence between them that David wasn’t sure was comfortable or not. They went in through the back door to the kitchen and, once again, David was surprised by what he saw. Patrick’s kitchen was a perfect balance between modern and rustic, with oversized oak countertops and sleek, stainless steel appliances against open shelving made with the same oak as the countertops.

“This is lovely,” David said, running his hand across the oak island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Thank you. All of the shelving and counter tops came from trees here on the property.”

David nearly said wow again but didn’t want to sound like an idiot whose only response to seeing beautiful things was _wow_. He pulled out a stool from beneath the island and watched Patrick move around the kitchen, checking the oven, setting out two plates, silverware, cloth napkins.

“Wine?” Patrick said, “or beer? I’m making a chicken pot pie, if that plays into your decision.”

“Wine would be great,” David said, still not totally meeting Patrick’s eye.

Patrick pulled out a bottle of red from a wine rack on the counter-top and David had an overwhelming sense of warmth, like he could see himself there, in Patrick’s kitchen, cooking together (Patrick cooking, David taste-testing). He’d never seen himself with someone in that way before, never considered himself as someone who’d settle down. He’d only known Patrick a handful of days and already he was swooning over the idea of Patrick wearing an apron and making him a pot roast. Maybe he had a vitamin deficiency. Maybe a brain tumor. That would be the only explanation for the onslaught of domestic boyfriend images scrolling through his mind. David and Patrick kissing by the stove. David and Patrick kissing by the sink. Patrick sitting on the island and David nestled between his legs, kissing Patrick’s neck. Patrick bent over the-

“David?”

David looked up at Patrick, realizing he’d missed a question. “Sorry, what?”

“I was just asking when you might want to schedule the shoot?”

David wiped his hands across his thighs and shook his head free of Patrick’s lips on his, Patrick’s body under his hands. “We need to settle on a photographer. I brought a few options for you to look at.”

“Pick whoever you want,” Patrick said, pouring a glass of wine and offering it to David, “I trust you.”

“Why?”

That was the thing David couldn’t figure out. They barely knew each other, had only just met, hadn’t spent any amount of time together, but Patrick looked at him like he’d trust David with his life.

Patrick got a bottle of beer from the fridge and opened it, leaning on the island next to David. “I’ve seen your work, what you’ve done with other artists at the label. It’s clear you have a great eye for these kinds of things.” He took a swig of his beer. “I mean, look at you.”

David looked down at himself, unsure what Patrick was referencing. He raised his eyes to Patrick, fully looking at him for the first time since they’d entered the kitchen. It was hard to do that, look right at him. Patrick’s gaze made David feel utterly exposed. “Me?”

Patrick pointed at him with his beer bottle. “You walk around looking like you’re going to be photographed at any moment…perfect hair, interesting clothes. The way you hold yourself, it’s sort of…seductive, in a way. It’s like you know people are going to be looking at you so you do your best to give them a show.” He smiled to himself. “I mean, I know that’s not who you really are. I know there’s way more going on underneath the perfect veneer, but your veneer is really impressive, David.”

David felt hot and cold at the same time. And like he needed to run. Hide. Cry, maybe. How did Patrick see all of that? How did he know? It was true, in David’s old life, he’d always been on display, frequently photographed and watched and judged, always trying to live up to some undefined standard from his friends, even his family. The only worth people saw in him was his money, his eye for fashion, his ability to make a $1,200 Givenchy sweater look effortless and cool. It was different in Nashville, but he’d never been able to shake that inner voice telling him he had to keep up appearances. To keep wearing his carefully constructed armor of clothes and disdainful expressions. Looking polished was David’s superpower. If he could do that, everything else swirling through his heart and mind could stay deeply hidden away, where he wanted it to remain.

Also, was Patrick flirting with him?

The oven timer dinged and Patrick put on two big, red oven mitts that looked like lobster claws to take the chicken pot pie out of the oven. Adorable.

“Smells delicious,” David said, glad they were no longer talking about his veneer and whatever Patrick meant by what he said.

“It’s my mom’s recipe. I took a chance that you might like comfort food?”

“Can’t go wrong with comfort.”

Patrick dished out a generous portion for them both before pulling out the stool next to David and sitting down. He lifted his beer and David lifted his glass.

“To making beautiful things together,” Patrick said, and clinked his bottle against David’s glass.

David took a sip of his wine and looked down, wondering if Patrick had any idea whatsoever what his words were doing to him.

They talked while they ate, Patrick asking how the family started the record label and David telling him about their former life, losing it all, finding something new. It was easy talking to Patrick, easy to forget they weren’t friends but co-workers, sort of.

“What about you?” David asked. “How did you get into music?”

“By accident, I’m afraid.” Patrick was smiling again. Always smiling. “I actually went to business school and got a degree. I thought I would…well, I thought my life was going in a different direction. I’ve always played guitar as a hobby, but when I came out here, I got serious about it, started writing songs, playing little gigs around the area. Your dad saw me playing at Puckett’s in downtown Franklin and hooked me up with the show at the Ryman. It all happened extremely fast, now that I think about it.”

“Is it something you want, being an artist?”

Patrick pushed his plate away and thought about it, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow on the island. “My whole life I’ve done what was expected of me. And that was fine, for a while, until it wasn’t. Now I’m just letting things happen, taking them as they come. It feels right to be going in this direction. So yeah, I guess, yes, this is something I want.”

David shook his head. “You’re not like any artist I’ve ever met.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

David wanted to wax poetic about Patrick’s eyes and the way he used his hands, the way his ass looked in those ridiculous jeans. Instead, he kept it professional.

“Most artists are deeply insecure and jealous and ambitious to the point of being absolute monsters, which I completely respect, by the way. But not you. You’re so…casual about it all, even though you’re wildly talented.”

Patrick grinned. “You think I’m talented?”

“Oh, come on. You know you’re amazing.”

Patrick watched him for a moment. “Still, I imagine you don’t give out compliments like that very often. So, thank you.”

He was doing it again, seeing David in a way no one else ever had. It was disconcerting. Unnerving. Too much. People David dated (not that this was a date) (because he didn’t date artists) never took the time to see past David’s face or his body or his bank account. And Patrick did it so naturally, like truly seeing a person was a thing you could just do.

Patrick picked up their plates and placed them in the sink.

“Thank you for dinner,” David said.

“You’re welcome” Patrick came back over to stand right next to David. “It’s a nice night. Can I refill your wine? We could sit out on the front porch swing?”

David knew he should say no. More wine and sitting on the porch would definitely weaken his paper-thin resolve. But he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay in the warmth of Patrick’s presence, wanted Patrick to keep looking at him like he was something interesting and precious and wanted.

“I’d love to.”


	4. Chapter 4

“So, I’ve been wanting to ask,” Patrick said, one knee folded beneath him on the swing, his other leg down, pushing the swing lazily back and forth, “you and Stevie?”

Patrick looked a little nervous asking the question and David couldn’t help but smile and roll his eyes.

“It was just this weird thing that happened for a short time,” he said, waving one hand in the air. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Stevie’s great, but we’re much better as friends.”

Patrick nodded. “Is that something that happens often?”

“What, dating Stevie? Dating girls?” Patrick smiled so David kept talking. “I mean, you can’t tell me you’ve never slept with someone because you were bored or lonely or high or whatever other dumb reason we do dumb things.”

Patrick grinned around the lip of his beer bottle before taking a drink. “You’re saying you’ve slept with other artists at the label?”

Oh.

Patrick kept pushing the swing back and forth, watching David, waiting to see what he’d say. And okay, yes, Patrick was flirting. Or, David thought he was flirting. He might be flirting. Oh, God, was he flirting? And was David prepared to flirt back? Was Patrick saying he wanted to sleep with him? Was this a sex offer? And if he said yes, would it ruin their entire working relationship? It nearly derailed things with Stevie, but they’d worked it out over time. David didn’t want to derail anything with Patrick. He liked Patrick. He didn’t want Patrick to be some one-night-stand situation. Patrick was good. Nice.

“No, I haven’t.”

Patrick’s expression was indiscernible. “Probably wise to keep everything professional, I guess.”

David couldn’t tell if Patrick was serious or joking or something in between, but the air had shifted between them. Patrick’s natural ease had faded and now he was guarded, tight. David could see that Patrick kept clenching his jaw and fuck, all it did was make David burn hotter. He wanted Patrick, morals be damned. But he still wasn’t sure if it’s what Patrick wanted. He was afraid to take the leap.

“What about you?” David asked in a soft, sultry tone. “Since you know about Stevie, seems like you should share one of your embarrassing sexual trysts with me.”

Patrick’s cheeks immediately brightened. “Oh, I don’t, uh…I don’t have any, uh, my stories aren’t nearly as interesting as yours.”

David moved his body a fraction of an inch closer to Patrick and quirked the right side of his mouth up in a flirty grin. “You’re saying you’ve always been good?”

Patrick eased off the swing and walked to the other side of the porch. David waited all of three heart beats and got up to follow him. They didn’t look at each other, both looking up at the full moon hanging just above the trees. David moved an inch closer, close enough that he could feel Patrick’s arm touch his. Patrick didn’t move away, which David took as a good sign. He didn’t understand the shift in Patrick’s mood, but he wasn’t ready to give up.

“I’m really glad you came out here tonight, David.” Patrick kept his eyes pointed up at the moon. “And I hope that we can…I want us to…I’m sorry, this is all so new to me.”

David angled his body towards Patrick and set his wine glass on the porch railing. “Being an artist?”

Patrick turned his body to mirror David’s. “No, I…” Patrick’s voice trailed off and he turned his body back away from David’s.

“Patrick,” David said.

Patrick didn’t turn, just looked straight ahead, but David could see his breathing had picked up, that he was gripping his beer bottle too tightly, that he was blinking a lot, clenching and unclenching his jaw. David decided to take it as the confirmation he needed. He reached for the beer bottle and took it from Patrick, setting it on the porch railing next to his wine glass. He tugged on Patrick’s hand, turning him back to face him. He didn’t say anything, just rested one hand on Patrick’s bicep and hesitated, waiting for Patrick to say no, but Patrick’s eyes were saying yes, yes, yes.

David leaned in and pressed his lips to Patrick’s. It was chaste, sweet. He started to pull back, to take the temperature of the situation, but Patrick grabbed David’s arms and drew them back together, kissing David with more heat, with a kind of desperation. Kissing Patrick wasn’t like kissing anyone else. Kissing Patrick felt new, like a new part of him was being awakened, opened, cracked in two.

Their bodies were flush against each other as they kissed and kissed, Patrick’s hands on David’s neck, in his hair, David’s hands on Patrick’s shoulders, his back. Patrick moaned and opened his lips. David swept his tongue inside and Patrick moaned again, sending a spark straight down David’s spine. He was immediately hard against Patrick’s hip.

“Wait,” Patrick said, pushing David away while still keeping him close, “wait.”

“I’m sorry, did I-”

“No, no, it’s okay I just-”

“I thought that-”

“I need-”

They both smiled at each other, saying without words that it was okay.

Patrick rested his forehead David’s shoulder and swallowed, swallowed again, looked up and wiped a hand across his mouth. “Can we go inside? Talk?”

David nodded and Patrick took him by the hand and led him inside. They fell together onto the middle of Patrick’s deep, squishy navy couch. Patrick scooted around so he could face David.

“I need you to know that I’ve never…I’ve never done that before.”

His face was so open, so earnest, it broke David’s heart a little.

He scrunched his eyebrows together. “You’ve never kissed someone?”

“I’ve never kissed a guy.”

David’s head moved in a circle like a shaken bobblehead because, fuck, he’d screwed it all up. He’d taken Patrick’s compliments and attentiveness and general ability to be_ nice_ as a sign that Patrick wanted him. God, Patrick was his artist! And he’d mauled him on his front porch! Could he be any more of a disaster?

“I’m sorry, Patrick, I thought that-”

“No, no, I definitely wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me since the second I saw you at the Ryman.”

“Okay?” David wasn’t sure what was happening. Patrick had never kissed a guy but had been hoping David would kiss him since they met?

“This is new for me, this want. I wasn’t sure what it was or what it meant or,” Patrick paused, thinking, “I didn’t understand. And I didn’t know if it was something that could even happen, given your position at the label. And then yesterday at lunch when you said you’d slept with Stevie…I hoped that maybe…”

“It’s not a good idea,” David said, “me dating an artist. It can get messy. With Stevie, it was messy.”

Patrick eyes widened. “I’m hoping there’s a but?”

“But,” David said, grinning.

Patrick reached out and grabbed David’s hands. “Tell me I need to give back the signing bonus and I’ll do it. Tell me to quit the label. Just don’t say you won’t kiss me again.”

David surged forward, licking into Patrick’s mouth and pushing him into the couch. Patrick went willingly, wrapping his leg around David’s, their hips aligning. What had been sweet on the porch, tender, was now frantic, wanting. They kissed like they’d just discovered kissing, like they wanted to possess each other’s lips and tongues. And David loved it, loved every small sound he could pull from Patrick, loved the way Patrick’s leg tightened around him when their tongues met, loved the way Patrick gripped his neck when he kissed down Patrick’s jaw.

David kissed Patrick right beneath his ear, kissed down his neck, kissed his Adam’s apple, licked the dip between his clavicles, loving the way it made Patrick whine and squirm beneath him. He knew he was attracted to Patrick, but now, like this, he wanted to consume him fully.

David kissed down Patrick’s chest, pulling open the buttons on his shirt. They were both full clothed, but he knew Patrick could feel David’s dick getting hard against Patrick’s thigh.

“Can we,” Patrick said, breathless, pulling David up to face him, “can we just do this, for now?”

David knew what he was saying. It was all new for Patrick. He wanted to take things slow and God, yes, David would do whatever this man wanted as long as he could keep kissing him.

He pressed a kiss to Patrick’s lips. “Just this is perfect.”


	5. Chapter 5

Patrick was due in David’s office any minute for a fitting. David had hired his favorite stylist, Jeffrey Lamb, to pull some pieces that he hoped Patrick would like. Typically, David loved fittings, loved playing dress-up with artists, finding what looked good on them and made them feel powerful or cool or unstoppable. It was all about making the artist comfortable in their own skin. Today’s fitting had a different energy. He’d spent Saturday night (and a tiny bit of Sunday morning) making out with Patrick like it was the end of the world and they were the only two people left on earth. David’s stomach flipped at the thought of seeing Patrick again. Their schedules had prevented them from seeing each other since Saturday, but they’d been texting and had talked on the phone once. Still, David was nervous. He hoped Patrick was still in. Because David was all the way in. He was so in it made him nervous. Being in was dangerous, left the door open for getting his heart trampled on.

Besides that, he didn’t want anyone else at the label finding out about him and Patrick. Not because he was ashamed or embarrassed, but what if it was short-lived? What if Patrick just needed to try something new and David happened to be there and willing? What if their time together Saturday night had gotten it out of Patrick’s system? It had happened to David before, someone showing an intense interest only for it to fade days later. He didn’t want to get into the whole thing with his family only for things with Patrick to end before they even began. 

God, he really really hoped it wouldn’t end. As much as he’d been burned in the past (and the burns were limitless), being with Patrick felt different. Patrick, at least so far, seemed genuinely interested in who David was as a person. He was real in a way David hadn’t experienced before. He said what he was feeling and thinking, was honest. Nice. So far, Patrick was like a unicorn, something David had always wanted to experience but never truly believed existed.

“Knock, knock, Jeffrey’s here!” Jeffery Lamb was at the door, interrupting David’s worried inner-monologue and rolling in a garment rack full of clothes, an intern following behind carrying a bin full of shoes. Jeffrey was in his usual flamboyant display – rainbow striped skinny jeans with a white, billowing pirate blouse and his long brown hair braided into two French braids. 

“Jeffrey, hi, so good to see you,” David said as they exchanged air kisses. 

“David, Honey, Darling, Sweetie,” Jefferey said, jutting his hip out and shaking his head, “I’ve done my best with the input you gave me. As you know, I don’t typically pull options from places like…The Gap…but I am here to serve you. I am here to be open. I am here for new experiences. And, Honey, I love a challenge.”

David flipped through the options on the rack. “I know you think these options are beneath your usual prowess, but there are some good choices here. Patrick’s a super handsome guy, he’s just not into fashion in the way most artists are. We may need to-”

“Hello?”

David spun around to see Patrick standing in the doorway, looking shy and adorable and so scrumptious David wanted to scoop him up and kiss him senseless. But they were in his office, for a fitting, at the label. No scooping allowed.

“Patrick, hi, good to see you. Come in.” David motioned him inside. Patrick’s hands were shoved into the front pocket of his jeans and he had on his trusty blue button-down. “Let me introduce you to our stylist, Jeffery Lamb. He’s a genius. I think you’ll love the options he’s pulled for you.”

Patrick stuck his hand out, “Nice to meet you, Jeffrey.”

“Patrick,” Jeffrey said, covering Patrick’s hand with both of his, “look at you! David said you were handsome, but he didn’t tell me you were cute as a little button.” 

“Who’s a button,” Alexis said, popping her head into the office. “Oh, Patrick, hi! I should have known it was you.” She skipped over to greet Jeffrey. “Hello, my favorite stylist.”

Jeffrey kissed her cheeks. “Alexis, you are perfection as always. This boho chic look is absolutely everything.”

Alexis scrunched her nose in appreciation and did a little spin, her tiny dress flaring out from her body. “What are you guys doing in here?”

“Fashion show, Darling,” Jeffrey said. “We’re dressing Mr. Patrick up in some new pieces, giving him a little extra sugar to go with his natural spice.”

David and Patrick glanced at each other quickly, Patrick’s eyebrows bouncing up in exclamation, a small smile on David’s lips. David hoped Alexis wouldn’t look to closely at his face or she’d know, instantly, that something had happened with Patrick.

“Oh, yay, fashion show,” Alexis said, clapping her hands together.

“Alexis, there you are,” Moira said, sweeping into David’s office in tight white pants and a black cashmere poncho wearing a long, straight wig of bright white hair with a thick black headband. “Time to go, dear. Oh, hello Patrick. Jeffrey. Gang’s all here, it seems.”

“Jeffrey and David are about to do a fashion show with Patrick,” Alexis said, pouting. “Can’t we stay?”

“While I do love generally love Jeffrey’s whirling dervish of beguiling accoutrements, we must be going.”

“Moira, are you…oh, hello everyone,” Johnny said. David’s office was filling up faster than a wine glass at a women’s book club. “What’s, uh…what’s going on in here?”

“Fitting for Patrick’s shoot,” David said, “and we don’t need an audience, so.” He motioned for everyone to move it along.

“Yes, yes, we need to be going anyway. Good luck Patrick. You’re in good hands with David.”

“Oh, I know,” Patrick said with a teasing half-smile at David. 

David pulled his top lip into his mouth. Was it hot? Was he starting to sweat? His office was full of his family and Jeffrey and a giant rack of clothes and all he could focus on was Patrick and his fucking lips that he wanted to suck like a lollipop.

“I guess I’ll say bye then,” Alexis said, blowing Patrick a kiss before heading out with Johnny and Moira. David shut the door behind them. 

“Okay,” Jeffrey said, spinning Patrick in a circle with his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “David said you’re more of a meat and potatoes man, so I chose some pieces to enhance your understated masculinity, yes?”

Patrick looked at David. “Would we say it’s understated?”

“It’s a good thing,” David nodded, “just means you have a quiet confidence. You don’t need to be flashy to stand out.”

“Okay,” Patrick said, holding David’s gaze, “I trust you.”

Those three words again, I trust you. It was pretty much the hottest thing anyone had ever said to David in his life. It made his knees tremble, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. David was close to an actual, honest to God, swoon.

Jeffrey scanned the garment rack and pulled out a pair of slim-fitting navy-blue pants, a taupe, collared linen shirt and a dark denim jacket with unfinished edges. David was impressed. At least on the hanger, it looked like Patrick, just turned up a notch. 

“Try these on and I’ll get the shoe options out,” Jeffrey said.

Patrick took the hangers from Jeffrey and looked around the office. “Should I just…”

“Oh, don’t be shy, Honey,” Jeffrey said, pulling a pair of brown leather boots from the shoe bin, “we’re all God’s children.”

David cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. “You can change in the restroom down the hall if you’d be more comfortable?”

Patrick pursed his lips, a hint of a dare in his eyes. “No, this is fine.”

David tried not to watch but totally watched as Patrick kicked his shoes off, untucked his shirt, unbuttoned it, his fingers delicately pulling each button free. David’s mouth watered as Patrick shucked his shirt off and threw it onto the couch, looking right at David as he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans. David licked his lips as Patrick unzipped his jeans, tugged them off. 

Then Patrick was standing there, nearly naked, hands on his hips, in nothing but a tiny pair of white boxer briefs. White. He may as well have been holding a blinking arrow pointing to his crotch that said DICK HERE. Then there was the rest of him. Strong legs that were hairy but not cave-man hairy. A soft belly that David wanted to rub his face against. A dusting of brown hair on his chest, defined pecs, strong forearms, and his shoulders, good God his shoulders. 

Patrick stood there a beat too long, letting David look. Liking David looking. 

David’s mouth hung open, his breath paused, his dick…stirring. He turned and looked out the window, biting down hard on his fist. When he turned back around, Patrick had the new pants on and was buttoning up the taupe shirt. Jeffrey helped him into the jacket and stood back to assess. 

“Okay, I’m a genius. You look incredible. Doesn’t he look incredible, David?” Jeffrey fussed with the collar of the jacket, tugged the shirt down, pulled on the pant legs.

“He does,” David said, his voice coming out too high. He cleared his throat. “He does. This look is perfect.”

Jeffrey snapped his fingers and left the office for a second, coming back carrying a full-length mirror so Patrick could see himself. 

“What do you think?”

“I like it,” Patrick said, looking at David in the reflection. 

“I’d like to hem the pants a bit and take in the shirt at the waist.” Jeffrey patted his pants pockets. “Shit, I left my pins in my car. Here,” he said, pulling another outfit for Patrick to try on. “Get this look on and I’ll be back in two shakes.”

He left the office, closing the door behind him. David was on Patrick before the door clicked all the way closed.

“Fuck you,” David said between kisses, biting down on Patrick’s bottom lip, “getting practically naked right in front of me when I can’t do anything about it.”

“Hey,” Patrick said, grabbing David’s ass and biting David’s throat, “I’m just doing what I’m told.”

“You can’t,” David moaned as Patrick kissed up his neck, sucked his earlobe into his mouth, “you can’t say you want to take things slow and then strut around my office in your little boxer briefs like some-”

“Little?” Patrick said, pulling back from David with a smirk on his face.

David threw his head back, a small smile tugging at the left side of his mouth. “I said the boxer briefs…were little.”

Patrick squeezed David’s hips, a challenge in his eyes. “Were you looking at my cock, David?”

David thought he might die, right there, just drop dead from the scorching tension crackling between them. “N..no. I was looking…at…the clothes.”

Patrick backed up and made a big show of pulling off the jacket. “You sure, David?” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Because I think you might have been thinking about what it would be like to touch me,” he pulled the shirt off, “in my little boxer briefs.”

David lunged. “Let me help you with that,” he said, reaching to unbutton Patrick’s pants. 

He waited for permission, quirking an eyebrow at Patrick, who only bit his lower lip and closed his eyes with a small nod. David dipped his hand inside, cupping Patrick’s half-hard cock over his boxer briefs. 

“Definitely not little,” David whispered.

The doorknob rattled and they jumped apart, David moving behind the rack of clothes, pretending to search for the next look and Patrick quickly getting into his second outfit, black jeans with a white t-shirt and a red and black flannel over top.

“This one’s not working for me,” Jeffrey said once Patrick was dressed, seemingly unaware of Patrick’s red, freshly bitten lips and the wild look in David’s eyes. “David?”

David came back around the garment rack and squinted at Patrick. “I agree. It’s too bro for me.”

“Yeah, it’s reading lumberjack and that is not the right look.”

They kept going, Patrick throwing subtle winks and grins at David as he undressed and re-dressed over and over, David barely holding it together. For someone who’d said he wanted to take things slow, Patrick was expertly taking David apart, one strip tease at a time. At one point, he turned away from David to pull off a pair of particularly tight pants, bending over just enough to make David squeak and cough into his shoulder. 

“You okay, David?” Jeffrey asked, still unaware of the dirty dance happening right in front of him.

Finally, when David had reached his limit for watching Patrick shuck off pants and unbutton shirts, when he was on the brink of screaming for Jeffrey to leave so he could pin Patrick against the wall and take him apart, they were done. They’d picked three outfits, including the first one Patrick had tried on. David asked Patrick to stay for a moment, said he had some details about the shoot they needed to discuss. They both thanked Jeffrey, said they’d see him at the shoot, made sure he had all of his things and summoned an intern to help him get everything back to his car.

David locked his office door and turned on Patrick like a lion to its prey. 

“You,” he said, stepping towards Patrick, “are a fucking tease.”

Patrick held his hands up in surrender, laughing. “You’re the one who wanted me to try on the clothes. What else was I supposed to do?”

David kept walking, backing Patrick into the couch and pushing him down. “You knew exactly what you were doing,” he said, climbing into Patrick’s lap.

“Is that right?” Patrick said, grabbing David’s ass and pulling him closer. 

Their mouths met, open, wanting, wild. Patrick was moaning into David’s mouth and David was pulling Patrick’s hair. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” David said, pulling away to catch his breath. “Do you know what that was like for me? Watching you take your clothes off over and over? Seeing you like that and not being able to…I thought it might be weeks before I got to see you naked and-”

“You were hoping to see me naked?” Patrick purred, and kissed David’s lips.

“I’m hoping to do a lot more,” David said, grinding his hips down onto Patrick’s lap. He looked at Patrick and his eyes were wide, searching, maybe a little scared. “I mean, if that’s what you want? I don’t…I’m not…we can do whatever you want. There’s no pressure to-”

“I want you, David,” Patrick said, and kissed him hot and urgent.

David was lost in it, lost in Patrick, in the low growls and moans, Patrick’s hands gripping his thighs, his waist, his neck. David decided he wanted to dedicate his life to kissing Patrick Brewer. 

“What time is it,” David said, panting and sitting up a little so he could pull his phone out of his pocket. He was momentarily distracted by Patrick’s mussed hair and swollen lips, his pupils blown wide. “It’s 4:00 now, which is close to 5:00 and I usually leave around 6:00 so really, the day’s practically over. We could…go to my place? It’s close by.”

“Let’s go to your place,” Patrick said, pulling him into a searing kiss. “It’s your turn to take your clothes off…for me.”


	6. Chapter 6

Getting out of the label was a challenge, everyone stopping them for one thing or another. Chuck from radio wanted to talk about the first single, Bex from Marketing wanted to talk about a timeline and scheduling a content day, Johnny’s assistant, Randall, flirted and gushed about how much he loved Patrick’s music. It went on and on, every person in the label suddenly fascinated with Patrick and his career when all David wanted to do was get Patrick home so he could yank his pants off one more glorious time.

Patrick kept sneaking glances and tiny grins at David while smiling and nodding along to whatever inane thing the label staff had to say, like they’d already developed a secret language made of smiles. David, for his part, uttered the loudest sighs possible, did his most dramatic checking of the time on his phone, tapped his foot as emphatically as he could with a sneaker on a carpeted floor.

“Somewhere you need to be?” Bex said at David’s third sigh.

“Actually, yes, thank you,” he said, pulling Patrick by the hand and waving good-bye to Bex.

“Patrick,” she called after them, “email me those dates, please!”

“I need to email her the dates, David,” Patrick laughed as they hurried down the hall to the elevator.

“You have more pressing priorities at the moment.”

“What exactly is it you want me to press, David?”

Patrick’s shit-eating grin nearly forced David to pull him into the stairwell and get down on his knees. Instead, he pushed the elevator button over and over, willing it to come faster.

Rose Records was on the eighth floor of the Gulch Crossing building on Demonbruen and therefore shared the elevators with all manner of other companies. David hoped for an empty elevator, a few extra seconds to press his lips to Patrick’s, but had no such luck. As soon as the doors opened, they were greeted by two shaggy hipsters in baggy jeans and cardigans and a grey-haired woman in a red power suit.

They got off at the first floor and hurried across the marble-floored lobby, waving good-bye to Jessie the security guard. Once outside, David pulled Patrick across the parking structure and pointed to a glass and sandstone building in the heart of the Gulch.

“I live in the Velocity. We can walk from here.”

They didn’t talk or touch each other, too wound up to do anything but move forward. David felt like he was balancing on a knife’s edge, like he might implode if they didn’t make it to his condo in the next thirty seconds. He loved that feeling, the anticipation, almost as much as the sex itself. And maybe there wouldn’t be sex, maybe there would be more teasing, more kissing. Whatever it was, it was going to be_ something _and something David wanted. They weaved through rows of cars in the lower-level parking lot, waited for the light to turn so they could cross the street, hurried across the courtyard and through the spacious, glass lobby, jogged up four flights of stairs and nearly ran down two hallways to David’s fourth floor condo. David’s key was still in the door when Patrick crowded up behind him, hands on his hips, mouth at his ear.

“David,” he whispered. It was more seductive than his name had any right to be.

David bit back a full body shiver as he opened the door and pulled Patrick inside.

“I’ll give you the tour later,” he said, pushing Patrick against the door and attacking his neck. They stayed there, grabbing at each other and covering each other in open-mouthed kisses. David had an out-of-body moment where he could see the two of them, crowded up against the door, mauling each other like they were being watched by a panel of judges scoring tens across the board for enthusiasm and ass-grabbing.

Patrick put his hands on David’s chest and pushed him back so he could look him in the eye. “I believe, David, that you owe me a strip tease.”

It took David a moment to shake off the haze, to come back to reality. He backed up, slowly, a dirty, come-hither smirk on his lips, and pulled Patrick with him into the living room.

“Oh, I’m gonna strip for you, Patrick Brewer,” David said, his arms around Patrick’s neck, lips on his jaw, “but I need you to tell me how far you want this to go. I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

David had thought about it on their walk over, Patrick’s request that he return the favor. He knew if he got them both out of their clothes, things would inevitably progress. Patrick seemed eager, but David knew he’d never been with a man before. As much as he wanted to get his hands on Patrick in every way imaginable, he didn’t want to jump too quickly into something that might scare Patrick away. He wanted them to have fun, to enjoy each other. Crossing an undefined line, even accidentally, would ruin the party.

“I’d say,” Patrick said, “we should go where the moment takes us.”

“We can do that,” David said, and God, yes, he wanted to do that. “But you have to tell me, if anything goes too far.”

Patrick placed his hands gently on David’s neck and looked him right in the eye. “I want you, David.”

And, holy shit, Patrick’s face. David couldn’t get over his open expression, how he radiated his feelings through his eyes. He could see Patrick meant it, that he wanted this, wanted David, which made him thank God and Mama Oprah for the blessings they had bestowed upon his life.

David pushed Patrick down onto the couch, pulled his knees apart and stood in between his legs. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, which was synced to his living room sound system, and scrolled through his playlists to find the perfect song. Once he found a song he liked, he cued it up and tossed his phone on the couch next to Patrick.

Tina Turner’s “Simply the Best” started to play and a devilish smile crept across David’s face. He rolled his hips, shimmied his shoulders, lip-syncing to the song as he slowly, carefully, pulled off his black and white cheetah print sweater and let it fall onto the couch.

_Come to me, come to me _

_Wild and wild_

Patrick legs were wide, hands on his thighs, a giant smile on his face, drinking David in. David could see how much he loved watching David, and David loved being watched.

David turned to the side and dramatically reached down to untie one sneaker, then the other, standing to toe them off while circling his hips and shaking his shoulders. He undid the clasp on his skirted pants and let the skirt fall to the floor. He stepped back and kicked it up with his foot. It landed on Patrick’s face and he pulled it off, laughing.

_Take my heart and make it strong babe_

_You’re simply the best_

_Better than all the rest_

David popped open the button on his pants and thrust his hips in a swaying motion as he slowly unzipped them. He pulled them down, but only a little, only enough to make Patrick breathe faster, the smile on his lips sliding off into an open-mouthed stare.

_I hang on every word you say_

_Tear us apart_

David dipped his hands inside his pants, swaying his hips and singing. Patrick raised his hand to cover his mouth.

_Baby I would rather be dead_

David pulled his hands out of his pants and toyed with the hem of his black t-shirt. His eyes on Patrick’s, he pulled it off, achingly slow, dancing and spinning and wiggling right in front of Patrick, his pants still riding low on his hips. Patrick reached out to touch him and David danced away, shaking his head, making Patrick wait.

_You’re simply the best_

_Better than all the rest_

_Better than anyone_

Once his shirt was off, David kept dancing, his pants sliding ever so slightly lower on his hips. He loved the look of lust on Patrick’s face, loved that he was the one making Patrick look like that, like he’d never seen something so tantalizing, someone so sexy. Patrick made David feel sexy.

_You’re walking away with my heart and my soul_

_I can feel you even when I’m alone_

_Oh baby don’t let go_

Patrick sat up straighter and adjusted his pants. David could see his thick length straining against his jeans. He smiled and slowly peeled his pants all the way off, stumbling a bit to get them over his feet and moved to stand back between Patrick’s knees, smiling down at him, naked but for his black boxer briefs. Patrick leaned forward and grabbed David’s thighs, kissed his belly, kissed and licked his way up to find David’s nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and David moaned, his back arched.

David reached down and made fast work of unbuttoning Patrick’s shirt and pulling it off. He pulled Patrick up off the couch, their naked chests slamming together, and licked into his mouth. He felt Patrick’s knees wobble and held him closer.

The song ended and David whispered into Patrick’s ear, “Tell me what you want.”

Patrick swallowed. “You’re so beautiful,” he found David’s eyes, “so unbelievably beautiful.” Patrick kissed him then, ran his tongue over David’s jaw. “Fuck, I love the feel of the stubble on your jaw. And touching you,” his fingers ghosted across David’s chest and down his stomach, “and your body. I’m…” he laid his head on David’s chest, “I’m overwhelmed by you.”

David kissed the top of his head and held him. Patrick reached his arms around David, their embrace tight and suddenly full of something David couldn’t identify. The moment turned from something playful into something weighted, something true. He worried Patrick was freaking out, that they were moving too fast.

When Patrick pulled away, David was relieved to see the fire had returned to his eyes. Slowly, he reached down to unbutton Patrick’s jeans. “Tell me,” he said, his heart beating wildly in his chest, his skin alive with desire, “what you want.”

“I want to touch you,” Patrick said, his voice even and sure. “I want to touch you my hands and…my mouth.”

David breathed in, breathed out. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it and…yes.”

David touched Patrick’s cheek, looked into his eyes, saw only openness there. He helped Patrick out of his jeans and pulled him by the hand into his bedroom. They laid down, side by side, tracing fingers over skin. The franticness of when they’d first arrived had evolved into a kind of softness. It wasn’t a cooling off, but a measured need, neither one of them wanting to rush the moment or hurry through it. They wanted to savor it, savor each other.

Patrick leaned in and kissed David, tender and slow. Sweet. He ran his hand down David’s side, across his hip, down his thigh. He pulled David’s leg up over his which brought their cocks together, sliding against each other through the cotton of their boxer briefs. As much as David wanted, and he wanted so much, he let Patrick set the pace.

Patrick took his time, tracing the dips and curves of David’s body with his hands, his mouth, all while telling David how gorgeous he was, how incredible he felt, he lucky he was to get to touch him this way. Patrick’s eyes on him felt like a sunbeam, a bright warmth that David felt all the way down to his toes. It was reverent, almost, like Patrick was whispering a prayer over and through David, committing his body to memory. David loved it even as he felt compelled to squirm away from it. No one had ever looked at him with such focused adoration, had ever touched him with such care. He didn’t know how to accept it, didn’t know how to lie still and let Patrick praise him, touch him, learn him. 

Patrick ran his thumb under the waistband of David’s boxer briefs and raised an eyebrow, asking for permission. David nodded and Patrick raised himself up and over David so he could strip him bare.

Patrick gasped when he looked at David spread out underneath him. His chest was flushed, his cheeks burning red, his lips parted. He slid off the bed to make quick work of shedding his own last layer and climbed back up to hover over David, his heavy cock hanging between them.

Patrick kissed David then, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and biting, making David’s hips buck up. Patrick let him go and sat back on his heels to stare, mapping David’s body with his eyes, lingering on his cock, a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’m going to, uh, do this. And then you can touch me, too, if you want.”

David bit his bottom lip as Patrick reached out to take hold of his cock, stroking him lightly. David reached for his hand and pulled it up to his mouth, licking wet stripes across his palm. Understanding crossed Patrick’s face and he took David back in hand, the glide smoother, warmer. When Patrick touched him, something lit up inside David, like there was more happening between them than just getting naked and getting off. It made David’s chest tighten, like he might cry from Patrick’s touch, which was ridiculous. It was a handjob, not a declaration of love. He didn’t understand why he was reacting the way he was. What they were doing was fun, sexy, a mutual desire. So why did David feel like his heart was breaking?

He sat up and pulled Patrick into a heated kiss, needing the connection, needing to calm the storm suddenly raging in his heart. They kissed until Patrick pulled away, a small smile on his lips. David leaned back on his elbows, watched as Patrick moved down David’s body and took him into his mouth. David was struck dumb. It should have been amazing, watching Patrick suck his cock, should have made him moan with desire, should have made his toes curl and his hands ball into fists. Instead, he felt like he might fly apart from happiness, undefinable joy. The connection, seeing Patrick take him, only made the raging storm inside him swirl harder. He wasn’t supposed to have feelings when his cock was in someone’s mouth. He was supposed to stay detached, take as much pleasure as he could and then move on as the other person inevitably would. Getting his heart involved was dangerous territory.

Unaware of David’s existential crisis, Patrick was giving his entire self to the experience, doing his best to take David somewhere he’d never been before. It was so much, too much. David could feel his heart beating in a new rhythm, was afraid he’d burst into tears from the unrecognizable feeling radiating from his chest. He pulled on Patrick’s shoulders. “Come here.”

Patrick looked up at him, David’s cock sliding from his red lips. He wiped his mouth and moved to lay next to David.

“Was it not good?”

David wrapped himself around Patrick, clinging to him like Patrick was a lifeboat and David had been lost at sea his entire life. Maybe he had.

“No, no, it was good, too good. I was…” He didn’t know how to say he was freaking out but in a good way, didn’t know how to explain that he’d never been so overcome with_ feelings_. Somehow Patrick had laid him bare, not just in body, but in soul. Sex with other people had always been fun, a release, a way to get something he needed. What was happening with Patrick was different. Bigger.

Patrick kissed the side of his mouth, his chin, his nose. “What is it?”

David couldn’t say, couldn’t form the words, didn’t have the adequate emotional vocabulary to convey that his entire chemical make-up had just been rearranged. So, instead, he went with what he knew, what he was good at.

“I want to see, want to watch you.” He flipped them over so Patrick was underneath him, grabbed both their cocks together in his fist. “I want to do this together.”

Patrick closed his eyes. “Yes.”

David reached across his bed and opened a drawer in his bedside table, coming back with a small bottle of lube. He made quick work of lubing their cocks and then pressed in, thrusting against Patrick as Patrick cried out.

“David, fuck! Yes!”

David thought it would be better, with him in control, thought it would tamp down the emotions bubbling to the surface. But he still felt like crying, was still overcome by Patrick’s face, the feel of their bodies sliding together, Patrick’s strong hands on his back, his legs wrapped around him. The physicality of the moment had snaked its way inside, had taken hold of his heart, had squeezed it into a new shape. He couldn’t hold it all in, couldn’t contain it. He buried his face in Patrick’s neck and thrust harder, faster, needing the release.

“Patrick,” he cried, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, “Patrick.”

Patrick held him tighter as David came, hard, his cries muffled in Patrick’s hot skin. Patrick followed, his body tensing through his orgasm, his breath quick. Then he was laughing.

David raised his head in surprise. “You’re laughing?”

Patrick’s eyes were closed as he kept laughing. “It’s good. Really good. I’m happy. Ecstatic. Utterly blissed out.” He opened his eyes. “I’m…wait…are you okay?” He reached up to wipe away the tears that had slipped from David’s eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

David didn’t know how to explain that his entire life just got made, that being with Patrick had loosened something inside him, had broken him in the best way. Besides, Patrick probably wasn’t in this to have some emotional revelation. David wasn’t about to ruin the moment crying about tenderness, wasn’t going to swoon while his chest was covered in his and Patrick’s come. He was David Rose. He was great at sex, great at being detached and desirable, great at keeping things causal. He’d deal with these new feelings later. Or never.

“You just fucked my brains out,” he said, smiling and rolling off of Patrick to lay beside him. “I’m surprised I can even form words right now.”

Patrick laughed again and found David’s hand, taking it in his. “Jury’s in, David. I fucking love sucking cock.” He let go of David’s hand and leaned up on his elbow to smile down at him. “And I am totally, totally gay for you.”


	7. Chapter 7

David couldn’t silence the repeating loop of Patrick’s words spinning through his brain. _I am totally, totally gay for you._ What had Patrick meant by it? Was Patrick officially gay and wanted to be with David in a for real way? Too good to be true. Was he straight-ish but loved being gay for David? Too probable to ignore. Was he having fun sucking David’s cock with zero plans for it to go further, specifically in the feelings department? Too heartbreaking to consider.

Because David had it bad for Patrick Brewer.

He’d been in relationships before, had developed feelings, sure. But what had happened between him and Patrick after the fitting, the burning ember that had ignited in David’s chest, changed everything. David now longed for Patrick, thought about him constantly, _needed_ him for God’s sake. David had never needed anyone, ever. He was perfectly capable on his own, handling his own shit, doing his own thing. Now he wanted to share things with Patrick, wanted to get his opinion on outfit options, wanted to take long lunches with him, wanted to tell him about past hurts, wanted to share his secrets. He wanted to know Patrick’s favorite snack food, favorite Real Housewife, if he was into organized sports (ew). He wanted to find out why Patrick had never kissed another guy, why he’d wanted to kiss David, where it was all going.

He knew he was getting carried away, knew he was taking one good fuck and turning it into a Sandra Bullock movie (hopefully The Lake House) (although While You Were Sleeping was also excellent). People didn’t change who they were because of one afternoon delight, didn’t alter their carefully designed personas just because a gorgeous man gazed at their naked body like it was a priceless work of art. David was an adult, a man. He could be dramatic, sure, maybe even too dramatic at times, but he knew how to separate physical pleasure from true love. Not that he was in love. Not that he’d ever been in love. Not that he even believed true love existed.

But God, did he have it bad for Patrick Brewer.

It had been two days since the they’d been together, two days since he’d felt Patrick’s hot mouth enveloping him, dragging him under, making him whole. Two days of him replaying every second, over and over, like a highlight reel of his own heart’s awakening.

Now he was in a car with Alexis, driving to Leiper’s Fork, wondering how the hell he was going to survive this photoshoot without bursting into metaphorical flames. The closer they got to Patrick’s house, the hotter it got inside the car, like being in proximity to Patrick raised the outside temperature from tolerable to I-have-feelings-and-therefore-cannot-stop-sweating degrees.

“I think it’s so cute that we’re doing this at Patrick’s ranch,” Alexis said, fiddling with the fringe on the hem of her dress.

“It’s not a ranch,” David said, exasperated, wiping his upper lip.

“You said there were rolling hills.”

“Hills don’t mean ranch. A ranch is, I don’t know, like, horses and cattle and a stout denim-clad woman banging a pot with a soup ladle to call everyone in for dinner.”

“I bet Patrick has a really big soup ladle,” she said, booping David’s nose with the tip of her finger.

He batted her hand away. “Oh my God, are you trying to make a soup ladle sexual?”

Alexis narrowed her eyes and hit him on the arm. “You like him!”

David sat up straighter, his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel. “I do not.”

“You do! You like Patrick! Awww, I love that.”

David waved a hand in the air and shook his head in a wavy circle. “I mean, I don’t _not_ like him.”

“This is so cute for you. I bet you guys, wait,” she inhaled sharply, “did you have sex with him?”

“Excuse me, Alexis, I’m not some hussy who just beds every artist we sign. Who do you think I am?”

She shimmied her shoulders. “I know exactly who you are you little minx. You slept with Patrick!”

David sighed, unwilling to get into it with his sister. She’d never understand that this was something more than a hook-up, that he was a new David, that this thing with Patrick was real and…complicated. Luckily, they were out of time to talk about it because they’d arrived. David turned the car onto Patrick’s long drive, thankful to nearly be out of the car and away from Alexis’s exuberance. “Don’t say anything, okay? I don’t want to make a big deal about it.”

Alexis half-winked both her eyes and twisted her fingers in front of her lips like she was locking them up tight.

In true Rose form, David and Alexis were the last ones to arrive. When they walked into Patrick’s house, Jeffrey already had Patrick in his first look and Claire Shimm, the hair and make-up artist, was finger-combing some product into Patrick’s hair.

“Patrick,” Alexis said, her voice three octaves too high, “don’t you look handsome.” She air-kissed Jeffrey and Claire and started looking through Claire’s make-up case.

Patrick did look good. Claire had done something subtle that David couldn’t identify, but it made Patrick’s eyes look like they were lit from the inside. Patrick looked up at David and pressed his lips together in a barely-there smile, his eyes doing most of the work, like he was sending David a message in a secret language only the two of them knew. David pulled his top lip into his mouth and told himself to _keep it under control. _

“You look great,” David said, going for cool and unaffected but likely giving away his entire heart on his face. If Patrick noticed, he didn’t say so. David was trying to come up with a way to get Patrick alone for a few minutes when the front door swung open.

“David, there you are.” Sabine Whitlock, celebrity photographer and former hook-up of David’s, was standing in the doorway looking like a Disney villain in a long, black dress and a long, black cape with wispy black feathers stuck into her black hair pulled back into a loose bun. She had thick, winged eyeliner and her lips, covered in dark red lipstick, were curved into a knowing, cat-like smile.

Sabine was eccentric, weird, slightly scary, but she took gorgeous photos. She and David’s fling had happened back in the day, back when the Roses were the toast of New York, but they’d stayed friendly. He’d been surprised she’d said yes to the shoot, honestly. Sabine didn’t normally shoot debut artists from small indie labels. He knew she viewed it as a favor and was a little nervous about what she’d expect in return.

“Sabine, you’re a vision,” David said, walking over and kissing her cheeks. “I’m so glad you agreed to shoot for us today.”

“Anything for you, David, you know that.” She ran her hands down David’s chest, a smirk on her face. David wondered if Patrick could see it, if it would make him jealous.

“Sabine was telling me you two have known each other for a long time,” Patrick said. He got up from his chair and walked over to stand next to David.

David felt his cheeks go red. “Yeah, we, uh, used to run in the same circles. In New York.”

Patrick’s eyes on David were unreadable. Was he smiling? Smirking? Judging? Had Sabine told him she and David used to date? God, David wanted to throw him down on the couch and kiss that damn smug expression right off his face.

“Patrick,” Jeffrey said, walking over to them with a jacket in his hand, “let’s try this one? I’m wondering if it will work better with our outdoor color palette.”

While Patrick was busy with Jeffrey, Sabine motioned for David to follow her outside.

“So, Patrick’s quite something,” Sabine said as they walked around to the back of the house. David crossed his arms and lifted his chin, waiting for her to finish her thought. She smiled and hooked her arm through his. “If I know you like I think I do, you’ve had him already or you’re about to.”

“Anyway,” David said, swatting away imaginary flies, “what about this location? Gorgeous, right?”

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. I thought places like this only existed in highly stylized made-for-TV movies. But seriously, tell me about Patrick. Where did you find him? He’s so…good.”

David wasn’t surprised that’s how Sabine described Patrick. Patrick_ was_ good. Kind. Funny. Handsome. Sexy. Smart. Talented.

Oh God, he had it so bad for Patrick Brewer.

“My dad saw him play a show at some little café around here. He’s wildly talented. None of us could believe it.”

Sabine nodded, her feathers blowing in the breeze. “He sure does like you, huh?”

David’s eyes went wide and his mouth popped open. “What do you,” he tried to relax, to look like he didn’t care, “what do you mean?”

“I introduced myself when I got here, since you weren’t here to do it for me, and your adorable Patrick could only gush about David Rose and what a genius he was. The look on his face when he said your name nearly gave me a cavity.”

David shrugged, his voice a high whisper. “I don’t, uh, I don’t know what that means.”

Sabine’s impression didn’t solve the riddle of what Patrick was thinking. Patrick was nice, so of course he said nice things about David. He said nice things about everyone. That’s what nice people did.

Sabine didn’t have an opportunity to elaborate as Patrick, Jeffrey, Claire and Alexis all made their way over to the first setup. Sabine’s photography assistants had assembled two light boxes plugged into a bright orange extension cord that snaked back to the house. A ladder was positioned between the light boxes. Sabine explained how she was planning to shoot Patrick from above with him at the top of the hill overlooking the meadow.

An assistant handed Sabine her camera and she got Patrick into position before pulling up her dress and cape so she could climb up the ladder. Patrick shoved his hands into the front pockets of his pants and smiled up at the camera, totally effortless and natural. For most artists, it took time to warm up in front of the camera, to feel comfortable with a team of people watching their every move. Patrick took to it like Alexis to a shipping heir’s son, like he’d done a dozen photoshoots before. David stood back behind the ladder, his arms crossed, watching. Every few clicks of the camera, Patrick would glance his way, still smiling. He couldn’t tell if it was friendly or flirty, a reflex or intentional. All he knew was that every time Patrick looked his way, his ears burned hot and he had to shift his weight so his knees wouldn’t buckle.

Alexis slid up beside him and whispered in his ear. “He sure looks happy, doesn’t he? Wonder why that is?”

David’s eyes flashed, letting her know she needed to shut-up immediately.

It went on like that, Patrick sneaking smiles at David, David smiling back and then not smiling so he wouldn’t be caught smiling, Patrick changing his clothes and the team changing the setup, more clicks of the camera, more secret glances that everyone probably saw plain as day.

They broke for lunch before the final setup. David had arranged for food to be brought in and everyone gathered around Patrick’s dining room table just off the living room. The dining room table only sat four, so Patrick brought in some extra chairs and a piano bench. He sat down next to David on the bench, entirely closer than he needed to, and reached under the table to grab David’s thigh. David couldn’t look at him, afraid of giving himself away. But he ever so slightly leaned in to Patrick’s touch, drawn to Patrick like water to the shore. He imagined what it would be like, if he and Patrick were together, if they were a couple and everyone knew. Then he told himself he shouldn’t think about such things. Patrick probably didn’t want to be a couple, had most likely never given it a thought.

The conversation at the table had turned into a heated debate about which sparkling water brand was the best sparkling water brand when Patrick pulled his phone from his pocket and typed out a text. David’s phone was on the table and immediately buzzed with a text from Patrick. David looked at him, his eyebrow hiked up in question, and picked up his phone.

Patrick: Can you stay? After the shoot?

David cut his eyes over at Patrick and saw that Patrick was grinning down at his phone like an idiot, waiting for David’s reply. It felt like in elementary school when kids would pass notes to their crush, asking them to check the box yes or no.

David: I’d love to.

David: Shit, wait, I can’t. Alexis and I rode together. I’m her ride back to Nashville.

Patrick: She can ride back with Claire. Or Jeffrey. Or take your car and I’ll take you home. Just stay. Please?

Patrick: All this posing and smiling has given me some energy I need to burn off.

David sneaked a glance at Patrick and saw the look on his face, the same one Patrick had when they’d spent the afternoon together at his place, like Patrick’s only purpose in life was to get his hands on David’s body.

David: And how, exactly, do you plan to burn off all this pent-up energy?

Patrick chuckled next to him before he typed out his next message.

Patrick: I want to suck your cock, David. I want to get that gorgeous body naked, spread you out and lick your fat cock, pull it into my mouth and swallow it down and make you come.

Well, fuck. Okay.

“Who are you furiously texting, Patrick?” Jeffrey said, attempting to look over Patrick’s shoulder. “I hope it’s somebody cute.”

David looked up from his phone with a jolt. He’d nearly forgotten anyone else was at the table.

“Just making plans with a friend,” Patrick said, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Must be some friend to make you smile like that.”

Patrick pursed his lips, his eyes bright. “Yeah, a very good friend.”

_So, that’s it_, David thought, his heart sinking to his knees, _he thinks we’re friends._ And that was fine, really. It would have to be fine. He could do this. He could be friends who got naked together. He’d done it before. Friends who got naked together could be really fun, could be great. Sure, it’s not what he wanted, not even close, but it would have to be okay. He’d just have to suspend his awakened heartstrings so he could keep this thing going with Patrick. Even thought it might hurt, would probably hurt, might shred him from the inside out. But if he could do it, it would mean being near Patrick, being with him. It would keep him in Patrick’s orbit, which was the only place he wanted to be. So, he’d do what he needed to push down all of his feelings, his longing, his bone-deep need. He’d hold his head up. He’d be flirty and sexy and fun. And he’d hold on to Patrick as long as he could.

Two hours later, the shoot was finally wrapped. Sabine and her team packed up lightning fast, the photography assistants skilled at vanishing from a set without a trace.

“Be good to him,” Sabine whispered in David’s ear on her way out. “I’m happy for you.”

David almost laughed out loud. Be good to Patrick? He was planning to dedicate his life to Patrick’s happiness. Yeah, he’d be good to Patrick. He’d be a fucking prince.

Jeffrey and Claire left next, kissing Patrick’s cheeks and telling him what an amazing artist he was and how much they loved working with him, kissed David and told him they’d see him soon. After they left, David walked Alexis out to his car.

“I’m going to stay. Here. For a bit,” he said. “You can take my car? I’ll have Patrick drive me home.”

Alexis shook her hips and poked David in the chest with her index fingers. “Yes. You. Are. You little sex machine.”

David handed her the keys. “Please don’t call me that. And don’t tell anyone about this, especially Mom and Dad. It’s casual. I don’t want to make a big deal about it.”

“It wasn’t very casual the way he was looking at you all day.”

“Okay, bye!” David said, ignoring her and walking back to the house. He hated that everyone else was so sure about Patrick’s intentions when he was completely in the dark. It was so easy for others to assume, to interpret a smile as meaning something other than a smile. What was it about people that made them rush to romantic conclusions whenever two people simply looked at each other? Relationships were more complicated than glances and grins.

Patrick was leaning against the porch railing and David climbed the stairs and stood next to him. He took a steadying breath, tamping down his feelings, the emotion of the day, the moment. Patrick was smiling at him, all heat and want. _It’s just about the sex for him_, David told himself. And that could be okay. He’d make it be okay.


	8. Chapter 8

They stood there on the porch, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the trees that lined the drive out to the road.

“Today was really fun,” Patrick said, his tone easy. “You’re really good at what you do, David. I’m impressed.”

David turned his body to Patrick, a sultry smile on his face. “Impressed, huh?” He was going for flirty, trying to give Patrick what he knew he wanted. If Patrick wanted to be friends with benefits, David was going to be the very best friend with benefits Patrick could imagine.

“There’s a lot to be impressed by,” Patrick said, his eyes raking over David’s body.

David ran his index finger down Patrick’s forearm, lightly, teasing. “A lot?”

“Come on, you know how impressive you are.” Patrick tugged on David’s hips, pulling them together. “Everything about you screams it. You’ve got to be one of the most confident people I’ve ever met who can actually back it up.”

David’s breath left his body. If only Patrick knew how completely unsure he felt, how scared. Sure, he knew how to enter a room, how to draw someone’s eye, how to create a pleasing aesthetic. But true confidence, at least in the things that mattered, remained just out of his reach.

“All these compliments,” David whispered, sneaking his arms around Patrick’s neck. “Are you trying to get into my pants, Mr. Brewer?”

Patrick kissed him hungrily, pressing David into the railing. David moaned, sinking into it. He loved kissing Patrick, loved Patrick’s eagerness, the slide of his tongue, the brush of his chin, the way their lips fit together. Patrick placed small, sweet kisses up David’s jaw and whispered into his ear. “Let’s go inside.”

He took David by the hand and David knew, _he knew_, he’d follow this man anywhere.

They fell onto the couch in a heated kiss. David wanted to turn his brain off, wanted to lose himself in Patrick’s lips, Patrick’s hands on his waist, his chest. But all he could think about was Patrick’s face when he’d said _friend_. Every time the memory played through his mind his heart broke a little. For maybe the first time in his life, he was having trouble fully surrendering to the moment, his mind too preoccupied with wanting more than getting off, needing more than just sex.

Patrick was kissing his neck and David’s eyes were closed when Patrick suddenly pulled away.

David opened his eyes, a question there. “What, what’s wrong?”

“Something’s up with you. You’re not…here.” Patrick moved his hand back and forth between them.

Damn Patrick and his stupid x-ray vision right into David’s soul.

“I’m fine,” he said, and moved to pull Patrick back in, but Patrick sat back even further.

“David,” He pulled David’s hands into his, “something’s going on. It’s like I can hear you thinking. Talk to me.”

David lifted a shoulder and shook his head, rolled his eyes, closed them, bit his lips. Even though he clearly wasn’t doing a good job disguising his tsunami of emotions, he couldn’t tell the truth, couldn’t form the words, didn’t want to. If he told the truth, Patrick wouldn’t want him anymore. If he told the truth, it would all be over. He looked over and Patrick’s expression nearly leveled him. He was looking at David with such care, such openness, like he was ready to hear anything David might have to say. And those eyes! David was powerless against them.

“I’m, umm,” David said, searching for something to soothe the situation, something to get them back to the task at hand. Something easy, that wouldn’t require him to lay his entire heart bare in front of someone who just wanted to be_ friends_. “I’m just, uh, I…”

“Whatever it is,” Patrick said, “I’m here.”

_But for how long,_ David thought. He took a deep breath. He took another.

“I guess I’m…a little,” _scared, heart-broken, enamored, overwhelmed, freaked out, in love, probably_. “I’m just really happy we met.”

Curious concern tugged at Patrick’s lips. “You’re really happy?”

“Yeah, you know, like, I’m so happy to be here. With you. You and me. Doing this.”

Patrick nodded but his expression remained guarded. “I gotta say, David, it just really seems like something’s bothering you. If it’s not something you want to share with me, that’s okay, but I’m hoping you will.”

David’s mind was too blank and too stuffed full. He didn’t know how to do this, how to pretend to be detached when his heart was already etched with Patrick’s name. He pulled his hands free of Patrick’s grasp and stood up to pace the living room. Patrick waited, watching him, that damn earnest expression on his face.

“Here’s what you need to know,” David said, whirling around and pointing his finger in Patrick’s direction. “I am not someone who…I don’t…this isn’t…” He started pacing again.

Patrick waited, kept silent.

“We haven’t known each other very long,” David said. He stopped in front of the fireplace, his hands on his hips.

Patrick nodded.

“And, look, I’ve dated a lot of people. Like…a lot.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Patrick said.

“No, listen. I’ve,” he started pacing again, “done this…before.”

“Done what?”

“The fun flirting and making out and hooking up. I know how it goes and I know how it ends. And usually it’s fine. I mean, not always, but usually everyone knows the deal and when it’s run its course, you move on to the next person, the next experience.”

Patrick’s face changed, his expression slipping into something a little sad. “Are you saying you think we’ve run our course?”

A weird silence sprung up between them, both of them looking everywhere but at each other. David knew it was his fault. If he’d just rolled with Patrick’s friends-only mantra, they’d probably already be in Patrick’s bed, naked. Instead, his stomach was in his shoes and he was standing across the room from Patrick, the mood completely soured, his mouth open in an apology he didn’t know how to give. He never should have said anything. Nothing good ever came from him saying anything. Ever.

“Come here,” Patrick said, motioning for David to sit back down on the couch.

He didn’t want to sit back down. He wanted to run. He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He wanted to turn back time, back to before he realized he had feelings for Patrick, back when it was easy and fun and there was no love anywhere for anyone.

David plopped down on the couch next to Patrick, keeping some distance between them. Patrick started to speak and David raised his hand. “Before you say anything, I think I need to finish what I was saying.”

Patrick waited a beat too long to say okay.

David pulled his leg up underneath him and propped his elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m falling for you, Patrick.” He closed his eyes, too scared to see Patrick’s reaction. “I’ve fallen for you.” He opened his eyes but looked up at the ceiling. “And I know me saying that will probably ruin this thing we’ve got going, I know you want to be friends. I’d like to say being friends is okay with me, I really, really would. But it isn’t. I want more than friends.” He looked at Patrick then, more afraid than he’d ever been in his life. “I want everything.”

Patrick raised a hand to cover his mouth, but David could see his lips pushed up into a smile. “I thought…I thought you were trying to break up with me.”

“What? No, I…” David waved his hands in the air, trying to find the right words.

“David, I want everything, too. With you.”

David’s eyebrows shot up. “You do?”

“Did you think I didn’t?”

“You said friend. At lunch. You told Jeffrey you were making plans with…a friend.”

Patrick laughed and grabbed David’s knee. “I figured you wouldn’t want anyone to know about us, you know, because of the label thing. Was I supposed to just blurt out to Jeffrey and everyone else at the table that I was begging you to stay over after the shoot because I’m completely crazy about you?”

David’s face softened, his eyes watered. “You’re crazy about me?”

“David, yes.” Patrick sighed a big happy sigh and climbed into David’s lap, framing David’s face with his hands. “I am wildly, head over heels, outrageously crazy about you. If anything I was afraid my eagerness was going to scare you away. I mean, you’re so you and I’m-”

“You’re perfect,” David interrupted. “And I’m not scared. Well, honestly, I’m completely terrified, but not because-”

Patrick kissed him them, long and deep, telling David with his lips, his tongue, the tips of his fingers, just how much he meant what he’d said. David could feel it in his toes, his bone marrow, his past and his future, especially his future. Minutes or a million years later, Patrick broke the kiss and gazed at David, his eyes full of hope.

David shook his head. “I thought it was just about the sex.”

Patrick laughed again and pressed his forehead to David’s. They were both breathless from the kiss, their breath mingling together in heated gasps. “Don’t get me wrong, the sex is amazing and I’m hoping we can do more of it and often. But it’s you, David. You’re what I want. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear before.”

“Patrick,” David said, his voice choked up.

And then they were kissing, touching, falling together in a new kind of desperation. Only this time it wasn’t about flirting or teasing or turning each other on. This time, it was a conversation without words. There, on the couch, they undressed each other, barely pulling apart enough to rid themselves of too many layers. David was euphoric, the feel of Patrick’s body on his, skin to skin, filled with promise and belonging. Patrick wanted him, wanted everything. They were in it, together.

“I want you to fuck me,” David said, eyes clear and focused, looking right at Patrick.

“Yeah,” Patrick said, his voice a hoarse whisper, “I can, uh, I can do that. I want to do that.”

David took charge, pulling lube from his bag, guiding Patrick’s hand to open him up, staying close, so close. Patrick was tender, attentive, whispering words of affection and care, keeping David wrapped in his embrace, never letting go.

When David was ready, when Patrick finally pushed inside, face to face, chest to chest, David’s legs wrapped tightly around Patrick’s body, tears slipped from David’s eyes.

“Am I hurting you,” Patrick said, stopping all movement and wiping David’s tears with his thumb.

David shook his head. “It’s never been this good. I’ve…I’ve never felt this good,” he said, smiling so wide, so very, very wide.

Patrick kissed him, fucked him, held him. Loved him. And that’s what it was. They didn’t say the words, but David felt well and truly loved.


	9. Chapter 9

David was in Patrick’s bathroom getting re-dressed. He’d preferred they stay naked together, but it was only three in the afternoon and they were both hungry since they’d barely eaten any lunch and making snacks together in the kitchen while naked seemed like it might be jumping a few necessary relationship steps.

And that’s what this was, right? A relationship? They’d talked about it, sort of. Or maybe not. David knew he’d told Patrick he had fallen for him. And Patrick had said he was crazy about him. And then they’d stopped talking in favor of touching and kissing and fucking.

But yes, David was sure they’d established they were in a relationship. Pretty sure. Mostly sure.

Patrick was already in the kitchen when David emerged from the bathroom looking like a GQ spread in his black sweater with white dots trailing down the arms and white skinny jeans with ripped knees, no evidence at all that minutes earlier he’d been writhing beneath Patrick like a wanton sex demon. At least, that’s how he liked to think about it, even though he knew the truth. Instead of a wanton sex demon, he’d been an emotional crier learning what feelings feel like. Maybe once he’d cried it all out, his inner-sex god could return. Maybe he should get on his knees and swallow Patrick’s cock just to prove to himself he still had it.

“God, how do you do it?” Patrick asked, shaking his head at David as he walked into the kitchen.

“Do what?”

“Look like that all the time. Honestly, David. It’s like you’re in a competition with yourself to see just how gorgeous you can be and you’re always winning.”

David smiled to himself. Crying be damned, he definitely still had it.

Patrick was making them both a grilled cheese sandwich, standing at the stove with a spatula in his hand. The sight made David weak in the knees. He leaned back against the oak counter next to Patrick and Patrick leaned over and kissed him, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like this was something they did all the time, making grilled cheese in the kitchen together. Well, Patrick doing the making and David doing the leaning and the swooning.

“I like you like this,” Patrick said, which made David’s eyebrows draw together in a question. “You’re normally so on guard, like you know people are always watching you. But right now, you look really relaxed. I like it.”

David smirked. “There’s a reason I’m relaxed, you know.”

Patrick pulled two plates down from the shelf next to the stove. “Well, yeah, that. But there’s more to it. It’s like you’ve released something you’ve been holding on to.” He set the plates onto the oak island and walked back over to the stove to flip the sandwiches with his spatula. “It’s like you’re, I don’t know, exhaling for the first time in a long time. Anyway, it looks good on you.”

David wanted to do that, wanted to look deep into Patrick’s soul the way Patrick looked into his, like he was some kind of soul magician. It was getting easier, being seen by Patrick, but it still made David squirm, like a too-bright flashlight shining directly into his eyes.

They sat down together at the bar and ate their grilled cheeses, drank some water, smiled a lot. David wanted to say something, get some clarity, but he was worried he’d already talked too much, like if he pushed it one word further Patrick would throw his hands up, change his mind. But he needed to know.

“So.”

Patrick took their plates to the sink and sat back down on the stool next to David. “So.”

“We’re doing this? You and me?”

Patrick beamed. “We’re doing this.”

“And you’re sure you want to? What if you get tired of me? I know I can be…a lot. Most people only like me in small doses. Aren’t you worried you might change your mind after you get to know me more?”

“David,” Patrick said, and turned his body to face David, their knees knocking together under the bar, “the second I met you, that night at the Ryman, it was like finding something I didn’t know I was missing. Wait, that’s not true.” Patrick smiled and looked down at his lap before looking back up at David. “The second I saw you the word NAKED flashed through my mind in all caps, because you were the most gorgeous person I’d ever seen and I knew seeing you naked would be a life-altering moment.” He laughed and David laughed, too. “I was right about that, by the way. But after that, when I really met you, that’s when I knew. I know its cliché and a little bit naïve to believe in love at first sight, but every moment I’ve spent with you has been more right than any moment I’ve ever spent with anyone else. Does that make sense?”

No, it didn’t. David was loud and dramatic and high maintenance and particular and kind of bitchy and a loner and closed-off and none of the things someone like Patrick would ever want. David knew that about himself. And love at first sight was a stupid, unrealistic princess movie fantasy, not something that happened in real life. And _love_ – that was a big word. Huge. Unreachable. Unknowable.

But. Looking at Patrick’s face, David couldn’t deny Patrick believed what he was saying, that his feelings were true.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Not at all.”

Patrick rubbed his hands up David’s thighs and squeezed. “Maybe it doesn’t have to.”

God, this man. “How can you be so sure?”

“How can you be sure about me?” Patrick asked, eyes wide.

_Because my heart came alive when you touched me. Because I’ve never felt more fully inside my own head, my own body, more fully in tune with another person. Because being with you makes me laugh and cry and glow from the inside out._

“I just am. I just know.”

Patrick shrugged, completely at ease. “I think we should trust that feeling.”

That word again - trust. Patrick threw it around like relying on another person was an easy thing. “Trust is…difficult for me.”

“I know.”

“How,” David shook his head, “how do you know that?”

“Because I see you, David. I know it’s hard for you to accept that this is real, but I’m here. I want to be here, with you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

David’s body thrummed with want, want for a future with Patrick, want for someone he could trust and that would trust him, want for a relationship built on love and acceptance and real feelings.

His voice dropped to a whisper, afraid to say what he wanted to say. “What if that’s forever?”

Patrick’s smile consumed his whole face. “Then forever’s going to be a lot of fun.”

They leaned forward at the same time, meeting in the middle in a passionate kiss. Patrick pushed off of his stool and crowded in between David’s legs. David grabbed Patrick’s hips, pulling him closer. They kissed and kissed, not as a stepping-stone to the next thing, but just for the sheer pleasure of kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths, biting each other’s lips, their tongues sliding together in a way that made David ache and squeeze his legs around Patrick’s. Patrick kissed David’s cheeks, his nose, the space between his eyebrows, his temple.

“I want you,” Patrick whispered, his hands in David’s hair, mouth at his ear.

“You have me.”

Patrick pulled back to look David in the eye. “Would you fuck me? Is that…would you want to do that?”

David paused, eyes wide, the idea shooting straight to his dick. “I…would _you _want that? It’s not something that, you know, you don’t have to. Just because we’re both men, you don’t have to.”

Patrick took a breath. “When I was inside you,” he ran his hands across David’s shoulders, down his arms, “it was a connection like I’ve never felt before, like we were truly together. I don’t know how to explain it.”

David smiled. “I know what you mean. It was that way for me, too.”

Patrick looked down, embarrassed. “I want that. I want to experience you being inside of me.”

David couldn’t believe he got to be with this adorable, button of a man who could ask for exactly what he wanted in the sweetest way possible. He wanted to twirl him around the room like the end credits of a romcom. But he knew Patrick might be asking for more than he was ready for. “You might not like it.”

“I’ll take the risk. But only if you want to.”

Did he really think David would say no? “I want to.”

Patrick pulled David in for another kiss, tugged him off the stool and led him down the hall to his bedroom. They watched each other, grinning as they unbuttoned shirts and pulled off sweaters, shimmied out of pants and boxers.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” David said, drinking in Patrick’s body as he stood in front of him.

Patrick smiled and blushed, crossed his arms over himself and then uncrossed them. “Do we need…”

“Oh, yes. Just…I’ll be right back.”

David went to retrieve the lube and a condom from his bag. When he came back to the bedroom, Patrick was lying on the bed, legs spread, stroking himself.

“Holy fuck,” David said, more to himself than to Patrick.

He dropped the supplies onto the end of the bed and crawled up to settle in between Patrick’s legs. “I’m going to suck your cock,” he said, taking Patrick’s dick in hand. “Then I’m going to open you up with my fingers and my tongue. Then I’m going to put my cock inside you.”

He was intending to set the expectation, to make sure Patrick was totally on board with everything that was about to happen, to give Patrick a chance to change his mind if he needed to. Instead it came out a little forceful, a little bossy. Patrick’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open.

“Yeah, uh,” he swallowed, “yes. I would like for all of those things. To happen.”

David grinned, so utterly turned on by Patrick’s enthusiasm. He took Patrick’s cock in hand and kissed the tip, flashing his eyes up at Patrick as his took him into his mouth, licking and sucking enough to drive Patrick to the edge but not enough to make him come. He replaced his mouth with his hand and stroked as he moved his mouth lower. Patrick pulled his knees up, giving David better access and it made David’s heart flip in his chest. Patrick wanted this, wanted him, wanted it all.

When David licked a long, hard stripe across Patrick’s hole, Patrick yelped.

“Holy shit, David! Holy shit! Do that again…do. That. Yes.”

David obliged, his own cock throbbing with every moan and shout from Patrick. He quickly lubed two fingers and gently, slowly, worked one inside and then another, taking his cues to push further, to give more, from Patrick’s noisy jubilation. David loved that Patrick was a talker in bed and did what he could to oblige. By the time David felt Patrick was ready, Patrick was absolutely begging for it.

“I want you, David. I’m ready, please. Come on. I need your cock. I want it.”

“Are you sure you’re never had sex with a man before me?” David laughed.

“Shut-up and fuck me,” Patrick demanded, but he was smiling.

David pushed a pillow under Patrick’s hips, positioned himself up against Patrick and slowly, gloriously pushed inside.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, David.”

“You have to tell me if it’s too much,” David said, placing his hands on the bed next to Patrick’s face. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

Patrick pulled him down into a kiss, all tongue and breath and need. David pushed in further, pushed all the way in.

“Patrick,” David said, worried because Patrick’s eyes were closed, his mouth open in a large O. “Are you okay?”

“It’s…a lot. But it’s good.” He opened his eyes, put a hand on David’s face. “It’s so good. It’s us.”

“It’s us,” David repeated, his heart bursting inside his chest.

He moved then, fucking Patrick in long, slow strokes, letting Patrick adjust until he was asking for more, faster, more. It was everything David wanted it to be, everything he hoped it would be. It was a connection, a bridge assembling, a tether binding them together. They kept their eyes open, on each other, David buried deep inside and Patrick wrapped around David, his legs, his arms, his body, his heart. They weren’t just fucking, they were melding, seeping into each other and making something new.

With David’s forehead on Patrick’s, Patrick came first, with a shout, David’s name on his lips, his cock in David’s hand. Then David came, falling, falling, falling until he was spent, lying beside the man who’d opened the impossible door, the door David never envisioned himself walking through, the door to love and trust and wholeness.

“David,” Patrick said, breathless, smiling, “I know this is the worst time for me to say this because it won’t seem genuine but holy fuck am I in love with you.”

David wanted to be shocked, wanted to argue, wanted to explain it away as a sex high, but he knew it was probably true. Because holy fuck was he in love with Patrick. Actual love! He loved Patrick Brewer!

“Wow, one cock up your ass and you’re in love?”

Patrick laughed and pulled David into a kiss. “I think you’re well aware how much I enjoyed that,” he said, his lips against David’s. “But I am in love with you, David Rose. With or without the cock up my ass.”

David pulled Patrick into his chest and held him there, whispering into the top of his head.

“Me, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

David was wearing his skirted black pants, black high-top sneakers and a black sweatshirt with a large white lightning bolt on the front. He chose that particular outfit because good things always happened when he wore it, and he needed all the help he could get. Patrick was on his way over so they could go together to meet the Rose family for dinner. David was planning to tell them how he and Patrick had become he-and-Patrick. Normally, if David revealed he was dating someone new, he’d expect incessant teasing, inappropriate comments, unnecessary questions and embarrassing stories of his past relationships. This time was different. Not only did he and Patrick and the entire family have an important working relationship that needed to remain a priority…there was the whole _love_ thing to contend with. David still hadn’t said it, and Patrick hadn’t said it again. David felt like they were in an _I love you_ stand-off, both of them waiting for the other one to cave.

And he wanted to cave, he did. Because he loved Patrick. He was heart-stopping, stomach-churning, life-altering, upper-lip-sweating, skirt-twirling, body and soul in love with Patrick Brewer. But he hadn’t been able to summon the courage to say the words. Something about saying it – _I love you _– felt too big, too loud, too much. But he was going to do it. He was. He just had to…work up to it. Some more.

He was checking his hair in the bathroom mirror when Patrick buzzed him from the lobby. He pushed the intercom button.

“Come on up.”

David opened his front door and leaned against the doorframe, wanting to see Patrick the moment he arrived. He felt like he’d been waiting for Patrick his whole life, waiting for someone to see him, all of him, and choose to stay.

“Hey, handsome,” Patrick said, rounding the corner from the elevator. “Wow, you look incredible. I love this shirt.”

David’s favorite thing was when Patrick noticed the effort he put into his appearance. Even though Patrick’s style was completely different than his (and completely lacking, frankly), Patrick always took the time to compliment David’s clothes, his hair, his whole vibe. David loved that.

Patrick grabbed him gently by the neck and pulled him into a kiss that was far too passionate for a public hallway. David shuffled them inside, their lips still attached and shut the door.

“We have reservations,” David said, Patrick’s lips trailing across his jaw. “We have to go.”

“We will,” Patrick whispered right beneath David’s ear, “as soon as I kiss this adorable, tiny little freckle right here. Or wait,” he said, kissing down and across David’s Adam’s apple, “here’s the one I was looking for. Or maybe it’s over here,” he said, kissing up the other side of David’s neck.

“I don’t have that many freckles,” David whined.

Patrick lifted his head, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh. Well. I’ll stop looking then.”

David pulled him back in. “No, no, you should keep looking. Maybe we should, uh, skip dinner? So you can do a thorough search?”

Patrick kissed David’s ear, his temple. “I don’t want to ruin your plans with your family. I know this is important to you. It’s important to us both.”

_Yes_, David thought, _because I want to tell you I love you. I want to say it, out loud. Because I am in love with you._

“We could make new plans. Naked plans.”

Patrick leaned into David’s shoulder and growled. “God, I want to do that.” He looked up, suddenly all business. “But we should go.” He pat David’s shoulders. “Can’t keep your family waiting.”

“Fine,” David said with a pout, “but the naked plans aren’t canceled, just postponed.”

“Good. Naked plans are my favorite.”

_You’re my favorite_, David thought. _And I’m going to tell you. Tonight._

They took an Uber over to Stateside Kitchen on 4th. David told the hostess his name and they were seated in a large round booth, the rest of the family not there yet. David knew it was his chance, while they were alone, to tell Patrick he loved him. To say the words. 

Patrick was looking at the menu, his eyes and lips scrunched up in concentration. David watched him for a moment, thinking how Patrick was nothing at all what David had long envisioned for himself. Or, that wasn’t true. David had never envisioned anyone for himself, never saw himself bringing a new boyfriend to dinner with his family while simultaneously working up the nerve to tell him he loved him. He’d never counted on someone like Patrick because he’d never counted on anyone. Patrick wasn’t his dream come true because David never had a dream that good.

“Patrick,” he said, his voice low, too low for Patrick to hear over the din of the crowded restaurant. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Patrick.”

Patrick looked up, a smile in his eyes.

“Umm, so, I wanted to-”

“Look at you guys,” Alexis said, jog-walking up to the booth in sky-high heels covered in feathers and a dress so short sitting down would be an adventure, “you look so cute sitting here all alone, all bunched up together, looking at your little menus.” She scooted in next to Patrick and squeezed his arm. “How’s it going with you two?”

“We just got here,” Patrick said.

“Together?” Alexis said, her right eyelid looking like it had glitched out and was in a permanent state of wiggle-wink.

“David, there you are,” Moira said, approaching the table in a black, floor length vinyl gown and short black wig. She had on a long, silver teardrop pendant that swung down to her navel and black leather fingerless gloves with black jeweled buttons on the knuckles. Johnny was behind her in a blue suit with a yellow pocket square. They both slid into the booth next to David.

“Patrick, nice surprise to see you here,” Johnny said. “Alexis was telling us the photoshoot was a great success.”

“It was, thank you.” He glanced at David. “David’s a genius when it comes to, well, everything that goes into making someone, in this case me, look good. I think you’ll be really pleased with the photos.”

“We’re expecting the first edit by tomorrow,” David said. Sabine had sent him some early shots and yes, they were amazing. As if there was any doubt.

The server came by and took drink orders, Moira asking more questions than necessary about the origin of the house wine and Alexis ordering champagne and then, no wait, a Bellini, no wait, champagne.

“So, David,” Moira said, after the server left, “you’ve summoned your family here to bestow a grand announcement upon us. Are you planning to leave us in suspense?”

David made a face that was half-wince, half-smirk. He’d warned Patrick that his family may not take the news well, may not approve of David dating their newest signing. Patrick being Patrick had said he’d be there, no matter what happened, that David was more important to him than a record deal. David wasn’t sure how that could be true, but he was really, really, glad Patrick said it.

“Right, so, I asked you guys here, tonight, to dinner, so that I-”

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late.” Stevie was standing in front of the table in well-worn jeans and her staple black leather jacket, her hair and eye make-up looking like she’d just come from a group sex situation where she was the primary focus.

“Stevie?” David blanched, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

“I invited Stevie,” Alexis said in a sing-song voice, pushing in closer to Patrick so Stevie could sit next to her. “She’s part of the family and you said the whole family needed to be here, right?”

“You’re just in time,” Moira said. “David was about to regale us with a conversational amuse bouche.”

“And Patrick’s here,” Johnny said, pointing to Patrick with a big grin.

“I see that, yeah, hi, Patrick.”

Stevie’s knowing glare made David’s neck go hot. He’d planned to tell Stevie the Patrick news separately, privately, later, because he knew her reaction would be more than he could handle in public. She’d want details about the sex, would spend a lot of time demanding he tell her she was right, would want to know more details about the sex. And now she was here and the six of them were crammed into a booth big enough for four and Patrick’s hand was on his thigh and Moira was eyeballing him and Stevie was shaking her head like she already knew everything that had happened and had the screenshots to prove it.

“Okay,” David said. “Like I was saying. I wanted to-”

“Y’all ready to order?”

David glared at the server while Johnny and Moira shuffled around, looking for their reading glasses, putting them on, reading the menu. Alexis changed her order three times. Stevie asked what brand of ketchup they served before deciding on her order. David felt like he was about to implode from the ridiculousness of his family but through it all, Patrick was smiling at him, squeezing his thigh, letting David know he was there, it would be okay, they were doing this together.

When the server left, David tried, once again, to tell his family the biggest news he’d ever shared with them, and that included the time he got broken up with while parasailing in the Seychelles with Anderson Cooper.

“So,” he said, holding his hands out flat and taking a breath, as I was saying.”

“David, this build up sure is taking a spectacular amount of time,” Moira huffed. “Isn’t there a less tedious way to deliver your proclamation?”

“Mom, I’m-”

“Tell us, David!” Alexis chirped.

“Yeah, David,” Stevie, said, an evil glint in her eye, “what’s up?”

“If you would all be quiet, I would be-”

Johnny held a hand up. “Whatever it is son, we’re here for you.”

Stevie swept her hair out of her face. “Not me. I’ll save my judgement for after we’ve heard what you have to say.”

David waved his hands in the air, nearly hitting Moira in the face. “Oh, my God could you all just shut-UP for a minute?”

Moira pulled off her cat-eye reading glasses. “Well, aren’t you the prickly pear dipped in vinegar?”

“I’m not a…I’m just trying to…”

“Just tell us, son.”

“David, honestly.”

“I’ve gotta pee, so, if you could get a move on.”

“I’M IN LOVE WITH PATRICK.”

He shouted it, just like that, right out loud. Time paused as David realized what he’d done, what he’d said. He jerked his head around to see Patrick utterly beaming at him.

Alexis squealed and threw her arms around Patrick and shook him, giggling about what their couple name should be, but his eyes never left David’s.

Johnny scowled and then looked worried and then smiled a little bit and then a lot. “Well, that’s…that’s wonderful, son. You know I’m supportive of all your…sexual encounters. And Patrick, well, we do think a lot of you so, this is, well, it’s just wonderful, I guess.” He smiled at Patrick, but Patrick was looking at David.

Moira sat back in the booth and said, “Well, I hope you two are using protection. Being a new artist is not the time to be bringing a baby into the world.” David wanted to argue, wanted to question exactly which one of them his mother thought had a womb in which to grow a baby, but he couldn’t stop looking at Patrick.

Stevie narrowed her eyes and grinned, her dirtiest thoughts displayed proudly across her face. David didn’t care, because Patrick was gazing at him with giant heart eyes and a dopey grin, like he’d just gotten the best surprise of his life. Patrick leaned in close, his expression so bright it covered them both in a sunny haze. “You’re in love with me?”

David cupped Patrick’s cheeks with both hands, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “Yes. I love you. All the way.”

Patrick’s eyes matched David’s, brimming with happy tears. He put his hands over David’s. “I love you, too.” He bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath. “All the way.”

David kissed him then, not caring that he was crammed into a booth with his entire family in a crowded restaurant. Patrick was his and he was Patrick’s. He couldn’t not kiss him in that moment, couldn’t not press his lips against Patrick’s, couldn’t stop smiling long enough to do so.

The family was all talking at once, Moira congratulating them on their sojourn into jouissance and offering more birth control advice and Stevie asking what positions they’d tried. Alexis was already running down the PR spin with Johnny and how they could make it a positive for the label, something about how fans didn’t usually care about morally grey situations.

David couldn’t take his eyes off Patrick’s, the two of them cocooned together in their own moment of bliss. David had thought telling Patrick he loved him would be harder than it was, but now that he’d said it, all he wanted to do was say it again and again. Because David Rose was in love with Patrick Brewer. And Patrick Brewer loved him back.

#

David and Patrick ended up sharing an Uber with Alexis. She didn’t live near David but was meeting friends for drinks in the Gulch. She’d managed to squirm in between them in the backseat, chattering away about how excited she was they were a couple and how much fun they were all going to have together and how she knew something was going to happen when the two of them met and on and on and on. Every time David snuck a glance over at Patrick, Patrick was looking his way, his expression somewhere between longing and lust. And love. So much love.

When they finally got to David’s apartment, David expected them to tear off each other’s clothes and fulfill their earlier promise of naked plans. Instead, after David closed the door, Patrick pulled him into an embrace and started dancing, moving them together in slow circles around the living room, his nose nuzzled into David’s neck. David felt weightless in Patrick’s arms, like he’d been filled with happiness-helium and if Patrick didn’t hold him tightly, he’d float away.

“I love you, David,” Patrick said, spinning David out and back into his arms.

David shook his head, his lips fixed into a permanent smile. “I love you so...so incredibly much.”

“I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to shout it in front of your entire family at a restaurant but, they seemed to handle it okay?”

David eyes went up to the ceiling. “That was unplanned. Definitely not the way I wanted to tell you.” He looked down at Patrick. “But I did want to tell you. I’ve been working up the courage to…tell you.”

Patrick pulled him in, close, his lips at David’s ear, their bodies swaying to a melody only they could hear. David thought the moment couldn’t be better, thought he couldn’t hold one more ounce of happiness in his body when, in a low, breathy voice, Patrick started to sing

_I call you when I need you and my heart’s on fire_

David immediately recognized it as the song he’d played the last time they were in David’s apartment, when he’d stripped for Patrick. But Patrick had changed it, made it slower, softer. Sexier.

Tender. Patrick’s voice in his ear was so, so tender.

_You come to me, wild and wild_

The apartment was quiet, only the sound of their feet shuffling across the rug and Patrick’s buttery voice in David’s ear.

_You come to me, give me everything I need_

_Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams_

_Speak the language of love like you know what it means_

David couldn’t take it anymore. He turned his head to catch Patrick’s lips in a kiss, swallowing his song down and leading him into the bedroom. They didn’t speak, just slowly, carefully, undressed each other, touching and kissing with a new reverence, a new goal, a new understanding of each other. When they were naked, lying next to each other on David’s bed, Patrick picked his song back up. David’s heart soared, thumping against his ribs like it wanted to launch itself at Patrick, nestle in, stay.

_Take my heart and make it strong, babe._

Patrick reached down and took David’s cock in hand.

_You’re simply the best_

_Better than all the rest_

Patrick kissed him then, his tongue slowly fucking into David’s mouth in rhythm with his hand on David’s cock. He was dragging it out, taking his time. He was taking David entirely apart.

“Can I fuck you, David? I want to fuck you.”

David nodded. “If you keep singing to me, you can do whatever you want.”

Patrick grinned, moved his hand around to squeeze David’s ass, dipped lower to tease at David’s hole. David reached across the bed and pulled some lube and a condom from a drawer. Then David relaxed, settled in, let Patrick open him up while he sang over him and kissed him and touched him. David had loved the song for a long time, but never imagined it could be sung like this, sultry and sweet, a declaration of love falling from the lips of the man who’d found him, rearranged him, made him new.

When Patrick finally, blissfully, pushed inside, he raised his head to look into David’s eyes, singing to him as he fucked him in long, smooth thrusts.

_You’re simply the best_

_Better than all the rest_

_Better than anyone_

_Anyone I ever met_

Patrick’s voice kept breaking, the need too much_. _He kissed David, whispered words of love, moved inside of him, but always went back to the song.

_And I’m stuck on your heart_

_I hang on every word you say_

Patrick’s voice stuttered, pleasure taking over for them both.

“Fuck, David, I’m...”

“I love you,” David said, pulling Patrick closer. “I love you, Patrick. I love you.”

Patrick sped up his movements, David’s legs wrapped around him, their mouths open in breathy half-kisses. David didn’t cry, just held on, completely enveloped in Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you so much for all the love y'all have given me for this story! It was really fun to write and I'm grateful for the friends I've made because of it!


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